


The Marion’s Recovery Home

by TieflingBoi



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Amnesia, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Caleb Widogast, Brainwashing, Child Abuse, Conditioning, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Found Family, I prolly spell characters names wrong, Internalised ableism, M/M, Multi, Past Abandonment, Past Abuse, Past Kidnapping, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potential non-con, Psychological Trauma, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Therapy, Trauma, Whump, lack of autonomy, no beta we die like men, realationships take a backseat in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:42:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26043679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TieflingBoi/pseuds/TieflingBoi
Summary: The Marion’s Recovery Home, a very small organisation focuses on recovery in a home-like environment. A safe place, in which you can create bonds with people who can understand.This story focuses on Caleb, as the latest addition to the group, recently recovered from a police raid into a countryside home, owned by one Trent Ikithon. He now must learn to navigate this new group, new hierarchy, new rules without failure- for he knows pain what failure brings.It also focuses on Mollymauk, who is a hopeless bastard who falls a little bit in love with all his friends but also is going through his own shit- as they all are.
Relationships: Polynein, some caleb/molly
Comments: 137
Kudos: 409





	1. Chapter 1: Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> Okay!  
> So to start off with THIS IS GONNA BE A PRETTY DARK FIC. I will be adding tags as I go, I think I have most of them but I'll prolly need to add more. I will do my best to warn of potential triggers before each chapter. 
> 
> I suck at summaries, but basically this fic is a modern Au in which everyone in the M9 are dealing with some kinda trauma and Marion decided to create an organisation to help young people recover in a more homely situation ( and definitely not so her daughter would feel less alone) 
> 
> It's pretty Caleb/ Molly centric but I may do oneshots about the others and stuff if I wanna add stuff that doesn't work in this fic. Also, their relationship won't be the main focus of this fic, the focus is the angst and then recovery. Won't lie this fic is kinda whump-y because I find that kinda shit very cathartic. 
> 
> This was heavily inspired by  
> MeBeThem4815 's Trauma Cafe  
> &  
> suluismyspirit 's Toy Soldier

The morning of the new arrival the atmosphere had been, not tense, but energised, uncertain. Molly did what he could to fil the time through mindless scrolling through Instagram, eventually rolling off his favourite couch to help Jester in the kitchen. She made pastries and sweets for all the new arrivals. It had been strange for Molly when he arrived, a room full of new people and eating more sugar than he could ever remember eating. 

The new guy wasn’t arriving until the afternoon, Molly hated afternoon plans, you spent the entire day getting ready for them. It seemed the others shared his sentiment, although none voiced it quite as loudly as he did. 

“So what do you think he’s gonna be like?” Jester asked as combined sugar and butter. Mollymauk considered for a moment, they didn’t have much info on the guy, they never did, privacy reasons and all that. But from what they’d been told it sounded like the guy had had had a rough couple of years. It was hard to say.    
  
“Scared.” Molly shrugged, gathering the cinnamon and clever mix. Jester pulled a face. 

  
“They’re always scared, that doesn’t count.”    
  
“I wasn’t scared.” Jester raised an eyebrow.    
  
“You were, you just hide when you’re scared by talking lots and being loud.” He narrowed his eyes at her, tail flicking in false agitation.    
  
“I do not and was not, I was quite comfortable to thank you very much.” He scooped his finger into the sugar/butter mix and popped it into his mouth.    
  
“Yeah okay, you tell yourself that.” she slapped him with her tail and began to mix in the flour. “Seriously though, I think this guy is gonna be pre-tty fucked up.”    
  
“We’re all fucked up darling.”    
  


“Yeah but he’s gonna be more fresh.”    
  
“Fresh?” Molly understood her meaning well enough, but her working gave him the vibes of freshly killed meat and he was not about those vibes. 

“Yeah, you know, pretty much all of you had been away from your stuff or learning how to cope before Momma took you in- “    
  
“You make us sound like stray animals.” 

“- But this guy, he only just got out and the whole reason he’s coming here is because he didn’t respond to normal therapy stuff.” 

  
  
Molly sighed, wrapping an arm around her, “ I know Jes’ but it’s going to be fine. Veth talked to him over the phone a few times with Marion. He’s gonna be rough, and scared. But it’s going to be okay.”    
  
She nodded. “Yeah. Its gonna be weird, just like anytime someone new comes. Hey, now Cadusues won’t be the baby anymore.”    
  
The two chuckled and continued their baking, Mollymauk purposefully shifting the conversation away from talks of the new guy, speculating only did so much. Instead, they gossiped and discussed the latest season of Tusk Love. 

Soon the house smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg and clove; cookies lay on racks cooling, and occasionally being snatched up at shoved into a passing mouth when Jester wasn’t paying attention. 

Molly preoccupied himself with some homework the group’s therapist Vex had given him in their last one-on-one session. To come up with a future for himself, a somewhat realistic one, goals, something that made him think about himself as something going through time, someone who exists in the world and who doesn’t just live in the now.    
  
He only really had one dot-point, even after sitting for a near 30 minutes trying to think of what he would want his future to look like.    
\- Happy.    
  
But what else? Urgh. He would work on it later. 

Finally, the tension was broken by the sound of Marion’s car pulling into the driveway. 

“Oi!” Beau called out from the living room, voice muffled by his bedroom door. “They’re back! Get your asses out here!” 

The sound of doors opening and bodies making their way towards the living room, some excited and near rushing, other hesitant, and the rest, natural. Molly put away his notebook and stretched. Aware of the cog that was about to be thrown into the works of their very precarious situation, as was always the case when some other poor pained soul came to stay. Oh well, this would be interesting at least. 

~

Caleb was unsure of what to make of his newest arrangement. But to be fair, he struggled to be sure of what to make of much of life now, after being taken away from Master Ikithon. The police had told him that he was safe now as if he had reason to believe he hadn’t been safe. The therapist had asked him of his time training under Ikithon- though he did not use his name, only “Your teacher.”. Caleb believed he answered accordingly, correctly. however, the man had seemed disappointed in him and yet did not punish him for such disappoint him, not inform him of the correct response. It had been strange these past weeks indeed. 

When the therapist had informed him of his relocation, a spike of fear had travelled up Caleb’s spine. He had failed. Upset the man in some way. Where would he be moving to? Somewhere worse than that whitewashed monotonous ward? Perhaps he would be taken to a cellar again, made to sit in the dark, to ruminate on his wrongdoings. 

“I’d like to send in an application to The Marion’s Recovery Home, it’s a small program and they’re quite selective in who they accept. But I believe you will be more comfortable somewhere that feels less like an institution. The Home is a small knit facility, catering primarily to young people like yourself who have gone through traumatic experiences. The program relies on feelings of normalcy in relation to recovering. Would you like for me send in an application for you?” 

The question was only a formality of course. Caleb knew he had no choice, he didn’t get to choose things like this, it would be punishable to think otherwise.    
  
“Yes, thank you.”    
  


The therapist smiled. “Good, good. Very good Caleb.”    
  
Caleb steeled his face into his mask, but couldn’t help the small glow of pride in his chest. He prided himself on being good, even if the praise came from this stranger. 

It had not been a week later had he been told he would be moving the new institute.    
He had received phone calls from one of the residents of the house, a woman named Veth, as well as the woman who ran the organisation, Marion. The two women had talked to him on multiple occasions, asking him questions to which he answered to the best of his ability. 

The questions seemed unnecessary, he had needed to provide much of this information for the application itself. But he did not question them, and only once did he stumble.    
  
“What’re your hobbies, Caleb?” Marion had asked him.    
  
“I very much enjoy my studies, especially my private tutelage.” He recited, “When I am not studying, I go hiking, or spend time with my peers.” 

The was a pause. Then Veth’s somewhat abrasive voice crackled over the phone, “What is it that makes you enjoy those things?”    
  
“I- Excuse me, I am not sure I understand the question.”    
  
“What is it about those things, that you enjoy?”    
  
He had never been told what to say to a question like that. Sometimes he was asked what he did with his peers, what he leant, or where he hiked. This question confused, him why the reason for his enjoyment matter?    
  
“I enjoy them,” He paused mind racing to fill in the blanks, what would someone enjoy about these activities. “ I enjoy learning.” This was true, “Magic is a difficult science, it is full of danger and possibilities, but it is something that allows us to alter the world around us tangibly, I enjoy this aspect.” Good good, he was not lying, magic was one of his greatest passions. “I enjoy the quiet of the woods when I hike,” this was true, there was no need to mention that Ikithon was always with him when he hiked, how he took him and the others away from his country home, and took them into the woods made them hunt, made them survive with nothing but their magic and skills alone. How If they failed to please him, there was no one around for miles to hear their pain.    
  
“Caleb? Are you still there?” Marion’s voice cut through his remembering. He silently had cursed himself for his disobedience, he had failed to stay present. 

“Ja- Yes, my apologies, Ms Marion.”    
  
“It’s quite alright Caleb.”    
  


That night he had corrected himself for his failure during the phonecall. It seemed that the ward did not approve of corrections that would cause long-lasting damage, and they had not provided him with any components for his magic, so he settled for pressing his calloused fingers into the flesh of his thigh, digging them in till they were sure to bruise. It didn’t feel adequate, nothing like how Ikithon would correct him. But it would have to do for the time being. 

  
They hadn’t asked him questions like that again. And soon he was meeting them in the waiting room of the ward. A small backpack on his back holding his few possessions. 

He wasn’t sure what he had expected in terms of appearance. Marion was a red-skinned tiefling, objectively quite attractive with her long hair, full lips and ample breasts. Her eyes, however, were calculating. He could see her taking him in. He made sure to school his features to not show any of his weakness, his anxiety about this new placement. Veth, she was stranger yet, a chubby halfling woman in a yellow sundress, around her neck hung a necklace of what seemed to be buttons. He made sure not let his gaze linger on theirs more than necessary, but he felt a small jolt up his spine upon seeing Veth’s scars, jagged things that ran down her face. It near made her resemble one of goblin linage. 

For a brief moment, he wondered if the scars on his body, hidden under his clothing looked like hers. 

The car ride had taken some time, near two hours. The woman had talked to him, he answered their questions but mostly he sat quietly, listening to them talk, or gazing out as the world passed by him. 

Eventually, they had pulled up at a sizable looking house. Caleb held no strong opinions on its make, he didn’t really care nor need to know about architecture. But the home did remind him of the picturesque nuclear home sometimes seen on television. 

Marion and Veth lead him through the front door, and into a sitting room where a group of people sat around. The room was large enough to host three long couches that sat in a U shape, the opening of the U facing a T.V mounted on the wall, along with a short but wide bookcase which held an array of novels and well as what seemed to be board games. 

The group had been talking but came to a hush as Caleb followed the two women in, they both went and sat on one of the couches, Caleb lingered standing, unsure if he was permitted to sit and where he was permitted to do so if he was. 

He kept his hands behind his straight back, keeping his face schooled as to not show his trepidation nor uncertainty. 

“Hey there, Caleb right?” the half-orc said, his voice a deep melodic tone.    
  
“Yes.”    
  
“Hey, you can come sit next to me if you’d like.” The blue tiefling spoke, her Nicodranian accent thickening her words. He did as he was told and folded himself onto the couch next to her, his hands resting clasped in his lap. “I’m Jester, by the way.” She smiled, showing pointed incisors.” 

The group then went around, introducing themselves. Years ago this many names at once would have made his head spin. But after years of learning to commit things to memory quickly and precisely his mind stayed clear and he noted down each one of them. 

“So Caleb,” Mollymauk, the tiefling so colourful he was near painful to look at, “Before we bombard you with questions I’m sure you have come of your own.” The teifling was stretched out along the couch, his tail lying in the lap of Yasha. 

Caleb hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was expected to answer or not. The group looked at him expectantly. 

“Ah, Yes Mollymauk. It would be beneficial if I could be informed of the rules and protocols?” 

It felt strange needing to ask for the rules when going into a new context Master Ikithon always made sure to inform Caleb and the others of the rules, in the ward he had been informed about what he was and was not permitted to do. Here though, even with near two hours of driving to inform him, he had yet to know of what was expected of him. 

Many of the group shared glances with one another, but Marion was quick to answer.    
  
“Well I will be fully honest with you Caleb, the rules are mostly common sense but the main things to know are that you’re welcome to eat anything in the kitchen unless it has been labelled with someone else name, it would be very helpful if you help with the chores you’re able to, please let me or at least one of the others if you’re going out and if you intend to spend the night somewhere please let us know where you are,” she paused, seeming to consider something. “Have I missed anything?” she asked the group. 

“Do not be loud after 9pm” Yasha spoke in the soft voice that didn’t seem to match her large frame. That wouldn’t be an issue, Caleb knew the unspoken rile that being loud was not permitted at all. 

“Ask permission before going into someone’s room please,” Fjord said, glazing at Veth for a second as he spoke. Why would Caleb go into anyone’s room without being instructed to do so?

There was a pause, everyone in thought thinking of rules. It was becoming very clear to Caleb that te rules not only extended to overall rules but also rules for each individual. This would be difficult, he had only had to please one person, Ikithon, but he would do his best. He would mistake of course, and he feared the repercussions of these mistakes, but he would learn. 

It was Caduceus’s deep rumbling voice that spoke next, his chin rested on his hand, his eyes seeming to take all of Caleb in. “If you feel unsafe, at any point, with anyone. Tell someone, you won’t get into trouble, we want you to feel safe.” 

It took Caleb a moment to decipher the meaning behind that rule, but it seemed to be similar in nature to Ikithons biggest rule- although worded differently. Do not be weak, and if you fail, report it. Caleb swallowed down the lump in his throat. 

“Yes, I can do these things. Thank you for informing me.” He bowed his head quickly. 

“Anything else you wanna know?” asked the tiefling girl beside him. 

“You have all been very informative, thank you.” 

“Take that as a no then.” Beau said with a sigh, “Well uhh tell us about yourself dude?”    
  
Caleb went through the motions, answering their questions as clearly and correctly as he could, all while gaging their reactions. They were all watching him, looking for something. He was unsure as to what, exactly, they were looking for in him. Fear perhaps? Perhaps they were gaging his possible uses in the household? 

Eventually, they slowed questioning him, derailing themselves with discussions with each other, telling him about themselves. About each other.    
  
“After vandalising the statue she-”    
  
“Cadusues it did not happen like that! What was really happening was-”    
  
“Uh no, Jes’ I remember you fucking up that statue pretty good.”    
  
“But it wasn’t like THAT Beau!”    
  
The group bantered and slowly Caleb began arranging a map of the hierarchy in his mind, shifting and moving the imaginative faces, trying to understand who he would give preference if given multiple orders. Marion was clearly at the top, this was her establishment. Veth most likely came second, as she was the one who had accompanied Marion. But then again Jester had called Marion “momma” so perhaps she was second in command. Fjord was trained in combat, as was Beau, it was clear from the way their bodies moved. Yasha was quiet so perhaps she was lower in the group but when she spoke the other listened and did not cut her off so that wasn’t right, the same went with Cadususues. Mollymauk was definitely high in the order, but Beau was allowed to speak back to him.    
  
It was a lot. This whole thing was a lot. Caleb fought the urge to cover his ears, or to flab his hands at the amount of muchness that this was. His skin felt too tight, the lights so much brighter and ever movement and sound so loud. He used to find comfort in his oddities, flapping his hands, the soothing motion of rocking or certain textures. He didn’t now though, knowing this would not be tolerated. His oddities were unacceptable. 

Finally, after what felt like near a lifetime. Marion showed him to his room.    
  
It was plain but full of rich earth tones which comforted Caleb, he had grown tired of the white and blue sterile nature of the ward he had been sent to. A double bed rested in the corner, a sliding mirrored door which Caleb assumed led to a wardrobe. A desk opposite the bed, and to his surprise a small bookshelf. Already stocked with a handful of novels. 

He bowed his head to Marion, his eyes downcast.   
  
“Thankyou Mz Marion. I will be sure to be a productive asset to this institute.”    
  
He didn’t see the look of concern cross over her face, nor the slight shaking in her hands.    
  
“You’re very welcome Caleb. Please, call me Marion.” she paused, “You’re not an asset, you dont need to be productive. This is a place of recover, that all you need to do darling. Do you understand that?”    
  
“Yes M- Marion.” He didn’t. 

“Good, good” she gestured to the room, he let the praise wash over him. “Well, make yourself comfortable. The bathroom is the door at the end of the hall. The doors all lock from the inside if you’d like to do that- I do have a key, but I will only use it if I believe someone is in danger alright?”    
  
“Yes Marion.”    
  
“Alright.” She lingered and then stepped away, making her way back to the communal spaces of the home.    
  
Caleb stood in the room. He placed his back at the foot of the bed. He sat down. He allowed his mind to wander, allowed himself to float away, even if just for a little while. 

~

  
Molly bit into another cookie, he knew he would have a headache later from the amount of sugar but it was future Molly’s problem. 

“So he seems like a bit of an asshole,” Beau said into the empty air once the new guy and Marion were out of earshot. 

“I don’t think so.” jester spoke around a mouthful of food, “ I think he was real nervous.”    
  
“I don’t know Jes’” Fjord drawled, “He seemed pretty cold towards us.”    
  


“People do deal with things in different ways, maybe that’s his way.” Yasha mused, her fingers drawing patterns on the spade of Molly’s tail. 

“He was definitely behind a wall,” Caduceus said, pouring himself another tea. “Was it not obvious to you?”    
  
“I mean.” Beau sighed, sinking into the couch arms folded across her chest, “Not really, he just didn’t seem to care? And the way he was answering our questions?”    
  
“It did seem very,” Veth paused thinking of the right word, “ like an interrogation. One-sided.” 

“Well, he just arrived.” Molly shrugged, “ what did you expect him to come skipping in singing kumbaya and tell us how fucked up he is? Give him some time, he’ll warm up to us. Not everyone is as good with people as you Beau.”    
  
Beau glared at him but sighed in resignation. He wouldn’t speak it out loud, but Molly could definitely ackowlage that the new guy, Caleb, well he was very cute.    
  
Molly took another bite of the cookie, why did he have to live with a bunch of very shaggable people that he really shouldn’t shag, that was just plain cruel of the universe.


	2. Chapter 2: Leniency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb tried to make sense of his surroundings, Molly is worried. Group bonding, and Caleb adjusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for  
> \- Eating and food mentions, descriptions of food and describing food in kinda gross ways  
> \- Vomiting  
> \- General Caleb misunderstandings due to his conditioning  
> \- Pandemic the board game ( figured I'd mention given the world atm)  
> \- Brief mentions of kidnapping  
> \- Mentions of Self Harm  
> \- Probably a bunch of typos because ADHD brain HATES proofreading with a passion
> 
> Stay safe ya'll

Caleb stayed in his room for the rest of the day until Veth came and fetched him for the evening meal. His mind had been elsewhere for most of that time, somewhere in between his body and the void he sometimes fell into. But he did his best to force himself into his body as the light faded in the window above the (his?) bed.

Fingernails that were short after years of biting and picking, scratched and pinched at his upper arm, the sensation felt distant, as if coming from a ways away. But he felt it, leaned into it. Pieces of his mind coming back into himself. 

Veth had knocked on his door, her voice calling out from behind it. “Caleb, we’re setting up for dinner, would you like to come eat?”   
  
His stomach was twisted into knots, and he felt nauseous at the thought of eating. But he knew that he could not deny food, especially when there was no guarantee if he would eat again in the coming days. The ward had insisted he eat, he never once disobeyed, but he wondered if they had been preparing him for his almost certain failures here in this new place. 

He stood and opened the door, sidestepping to stand against the wall as was expected of him from Ikithon. Veth didn’t step inside, nor did her eyes search the room behind him. She instead looked at Caleb, who averted his gaze. 

“We’ll be eating in a few minutes, you can come down when you’re ready.” 

He had had no chores, homework or any other tasks to complete before he would be able to eat. He followed her down the stairs. 

The sound of the mealtime preparations greeted him long before he followed Veth into the kitchen and eating area. Voices and the clink of plates and cutlery, a sink running then stopping. Laughter. Chairs scraping against the hardwood floor. 

He felt the familiar prickle on his neck of eyes watching him, gazes landing intently on him. But he met none of them, eyes downcast he waited to be told how to make himself useful.   
  


The order did not come. 

He waited. The room continued to bustle, Beauregard setting the table as she laughed at something Jester said as the tiefling mixed a bowl of leafy greens. Caduceus moved what seemed to be roast vegetables from a pan onto a plate as Fjord cut slices through a piece of meat. Veth pushed gently past Cadusues and opened the fridge taking out a large bottle of an orange soda. Yasha was talking to Marion, her hands wringing together anxiously as she spoke. 

“Hey, Caleb,” Mollymauk said, attempting to balance three bowls and a jug of water. “Could you give me a hand please?”   
  
Caleb scolded himself internally. So many people, it was clear he was expected to take initiative here, he could not rely on a constant feed of orders. He rushed forward and took the jug and one of the bowls from Molly, he reached to take the rest but Molly stepped away.   
  
“Thank you, for a moment there I thought Beau might murder me if I dropped the dinner rolls and took away her carbs.” He let out an easy chuckle. Caleb forced his mouth to form a small smile in response. He made a mental note to examine that sentence later for sarcasm when he wasn’t busy. 

He placed the food and jug on the table as prompted by Molly. The man continued to grin at him, “Sorry for the… Muchness. I promise you dinner isn’t normally this much of an affair but we can’t seem to help ourselves when a newbie walks in.” 

For a moment Caleb was reminded of when he had last heard that phrase. When Ikithon had had them meet and discuss their futures with his graduated Volstrucker, he had been 14 perhaps- only just beginning his training directly under Ikithon. He remembered looking up at the man, who at the time seemed so grown up but couldn’t be more than 25, his dark hair cropped short, his hands in position behind his back, he had looked at Caleb, Eudowolf and Astrid, his face unreadable before cracking into a sly grin. “So there are the Newbies?”

  
  
“Caleb? Caleb are you alright?” He was no longer there, he was in the group home, Mollymauk stood in front of him, a hand reached out as if to touch him but hesitating. “You were somewhere else for a moment there. Would you like space or company?” 

Caleb, idiotic, stupid, horrible, _weak_ , Caleb flinched, the mix of sudden memory, the sudden return, hand so close to him and the sounds of the room around him once again swirling around him. He froze, waiting for the slap of Molly’s hand, he had been told not hours before that this was a rule. He was safe here, to act otherwise was disobedience. 

The slap, however, did not come. Cautiously he looked up towards Molly’s face, focusing on the peacock feather tattoo that framed his cheek. 

“My apologies Mollymauk.” His throat felt tight, “I, uh, I remembered something and it distracted me. I will be sure to not do so again.”   
  
Something softened in Mollymauks gaze, something Caleb couldn’t quite identify; hopefully, this meant he had pleased the man, perhaps he was reluctant to meet out any punishment on the first night. 

“Its alright Caleb, no need to apologise.” Molly shifted his weight, Caleb concentrated very hard on not moving away. “ Would you like to still eat dinner with us? You can take a plate to your room if you’d like?”   
  
He wasn’t sure what the correct answer here was, was it a trick? Caleb considered the situation, according to Molly the group had created some fuss in regards to his first meal with them, it would displease the group should he refuse to sit at their table.   
  
“Thank you Mollymauk, I will eat with you.” 

Mollymauk smiled, a trickle of tension left Caleb, ever so slightly. He had chosen correctly. 

  
  


The meal had been a difficult affair for Caleb, A majority of the food had been placed on platters in the middle of the table leaving everyone to pile onto their plates what they wished to eat. Caleb had not been in such a situation since he had left the main body of the academy, but he managed to place small portions of food onto his plate. 

His stomach churned and he felt sick, but he continues to force down bites of food, especially as the other suggested he try this and that. He forced himself to bite, chew and swallow. 

Thankfully the conversation did not linger with him long, a few times he was asked his opinion on a topic but he did not understand the reasoning behind these questions, but he answered. And eventually, the conversations moved on, allowing him to concentrate on bite, chew, swallow. 

That night, after most of the residents, had gone to their rooms, the soft sound of music and videos playing from behind some of the doors. Caleb had thrown up in the communal bathroom. He hadn’t intended nor wanted to. But the mix of anxiety and the feeling of being too full caused his gut to disgorge itself in foul acidic heaves. 

Once upon a time, Caleb had been loud when he vomited, gagging and moaning. Now he was silent, the only sound was the wet sloosh of his regurgitation hitting the water of the bowl. 

He hated to admit it to himself, but the disgusting creature in him found comfort in the burn of the ordeal. 

The next three days were strange but surprisingly calm. Caleb woke early with the sun, he had yet to get over the surprise of a new surrounding. He still woke expecting to see his dorm at Ikithons estate. He would read one of the books on his shelf he had been permitted to read, made his way through the pages of the mostly romance novels, a few were more adventure of fantasy-oriented. He avoided the murder mystery ones. 

After a few hours, the rest of the house would stir, those who showered in the morning did so, cursing the others out when they knocked on the door. On the second day, Caleb had asked permission from Marion to shower, ( “Of course Caleb, You need not ask, shower when you would like to.”) Around 9.00 Veth would knock on his door, allowing him to join the group for breakfast. 

Caleb would help clean the dishes, ask Marion if she would ask anything of which, she declined so Caleb went to his room. He read, he practised his magic without any components, listing said physical components for each of his spells in alphabetical order. Then went through their somatic components, then their verbal components. Then with a finger, he would trace the sigils and geometric arcane symbols he knew in the air. Then he would read some more.

It seemed he was not permitted to a midday meal as Veth did not return until the evening. Telling him to come down to eat dinner. Much like how Molly had said, dinner was not so much of an affair as it had been the first night, but as it seemed with any space holding all the residence of the recovery home, it was loud and full of movement. 

~  
Midafternoon, four days after Caleb’s initial arrival and Molly was starting to worry. 

“He is probably shy,” Yasha tried assuring him as he paced in the living room, “When we came here I didn’t want to leave my room.”   
  
“But you did.” Molly pointed a finger at her, his tail lashing at the air. “And you are very anti-social.”   
  
“I only agreed to come here because you were, I stayed with you.” She shrugged. 

“You need therapy just as much as I do-”   
  
“Did I say I didn’t? I just refused it until Gustav convinced me to come with you.” 

Molly silently thanked the Moonweaver for Gustav being the caring soul he was. “Yes well, still.” Molly huffed. “I don’t want to pry into his business, gods know that. I just-” He gestured at the air, scrambling at feelings he couldn’t find the words for. “He strikes me at the kind of person who needs a push. A gentle push. But a push.”   
  
“Ooo~ Who’re we pushing?” Jester asked as she walked into the room, “It’s, not Beau is it?”   
  
“No darling,” Molly sighed, reaching a hand out for Jester, who took his hand and squeezed as she walked past to sit beside Yasha. “I’m worried about Caleb.”   
  
“Oh.” Jester chewed on her cheek, “Yeah me too. He reminds me of the people I met that one time.” 

Molly’s pacing faltered for a second, “that one time,” was almost always Jester’s way of referring to her kidnapping, she hated referring to it directly but indirectly seemed to bother her less. That did make sense to Molly, that Caleb would act similar to those other souls taken along with Jester, perhaps those who had been there longer. 

They hadn’t been informed about the causes of Caleb’s issues, that was his story to tell. But they had been informed that he was apart of an ongoing case. That at some point detectives might come into the house to talk to him. Despite Beau’s mumblings of ACAB, the group had let Marion know that hey didn’t mind, that this wouldn’t trigger them to the best of their knowledge. 

But if Caleb acted like a trafficking victim, then perhaps that’s what he was. Molly shook his head as if he could dispel his musings. It didn’t matter now, a person’s past is in the past, what mattered was how they could help him now. 

“Okay,” Molly said, making himself sitting on the couch beside Jester. His tail still flicking restlessly. “What do we do?”   
  
“I guess we let him know that he can hang out with us, that we’re safe and won’t hurt him” She smiled but there was a distance in her smile, “Sometimes it’s hard to remember for people.” 

“Alright.” Molly bobbed his head then leaned on Jester’s side, careful not to get her tangled in his horn jewellery. She relaxed into the touch. “How about we invite him to hang out with us today? He’s not much of a conversationalist but -”   
  
“What about a board game,” Yasha smiled softly, “ they are good when you are with someone you wish to know.”   
  
“That’s a great idea Yasha!” Jester grinned, “Should we do it now?”   
  
“Ah... Sure?” 

Jester jumped out off the couch, sticking her tongue out as Molly scrambled to keep his balance. “I’ll go ask him now, you guys wait here~” 

As she near skipped out of the room Molly could only shrug as Yasha looked at him bemused.   
  
It wasn’t long before Jester returned, Caleb in tow who had a look about him as if he was about to meet his own firing squad. He was scratching gently at his forearms, a nervous habit. Molly swallowed down the urge to click his tongue, he wasn’t one to judge, but he knew unhealthy coping mechanisms when he saw them. But like the other, he didn’t mention it. There was no point, all it would do was scare the redhead away. 

“So what kinda games do you like Caleb? Whatever it is we probably have it” Jester gestured towards their ever-growing shelf of games.   
  
The man looked like he was being asked to pick between execution methods, “I, uh… I have not played many of these… I would play a, an academic version of Guess Who with my peers at school. But that is only for two people.”   
  
“That’s alright Caleb,” Molly tried to reassure him before he had an aneurysm. “We can figure out something to play - what do you fancy Yasha”   
  
“Monopoly maybe?”   
  
“I’m disowning you.”   
  
“What?” Yasha looked at him incredulously, “ Its a fun game.”   
  
“Monopoly is a terrible game and in a wonderful world full of beautiful and actually interesting games, Monopoly can go die for all I care.”   
  
“You only say that because you lose.”   
  
Molly blinked, considering perhaps, for just a moment. If it would be alright to stab her with his horn. Probably not. 

“How about a working together game?” Jester chirped breaking his focus the every glowing hatred Molly had in his heart for Monopoly. “Pandemic?”   
  
“See!” Molly smiled pointedly at Yasha, “an actually interesting game.” He looked back at Jester, ignoring how Yasha pushed at his side, “ Yes Pandemic’s a great idea Jester. I think you’ll like this one Caleb, it’s a very fun one that you need to think for.”   
  
Caleb’s jaw was clenched, but face carefully set to a neutral expression. Molly wasn’t sure if he preferred that cold wall or the fear. Caleb nodded. “Ja, if you would like.” 

He moved across the room, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table that Jester was beginning to set up the board on. 

Molly pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to the group chat. 

Twink: Playing Pandemic w Caleb :) join now if u want in x

Buttons: BRT :D 

Fight me : ill pass this time thanks tho 

I’m landlocked: be there in a bit. 

Tea boi: not a fan of that game but I’ll come watch. 

Fight me: so im the only one not playing? 

Tea boi: I’m watching :) 

Fight me: I’m busy so im not being an asshole ill play next time

Twink: chill fam ur fine do keep doing ur pushups or whatever.

Fight me: fight me. 

  
  


Moly looked up from his screen, smiling to himself. 

Yasha had already moved to the floor, helping Jester shuffle the disease cards and beginning to explain the game to Caleb. Stealing a quick look at her phone Jester snorted and rolled her eyes before locking them with Molly, sharing the silent joke of _“oh Beauregard_ ” 

When Veth walked in, Caleb was nodding along as Yasha wrapped up the game explanation. “I think I understand, I will ask questions as we play if I need if this is alright?”   
  
“Yeah, its easier to understand as you play anyway.”   
  
“Dibs being a medic!” She sat herself down beside Caleb who nodded his head in greeting. 

“You don’t get to pick Veth,” Jester scolded, “you draw it.”   
  
“Yeah well, that’s stupid.”   
  
“What’s stupid?” Fjord asked walking into the room, his slightly limping gait impacting lightly on the carpet. 

“Veth wanting to cheat.” Jester shrugged counting out pandemic cards. 

“Well,” Fjord groaned as he sat around the now getting slightly cramped table. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”   
  


Veth only grumbled under her breath. 

Now having set up the board, Jester began to present a hand of cards for everyone to choose their roles, Molly plucked out a Dispatcher card, not his favourite role but he couldn’t complain. 

“Veth, I seem to have drawn out the card you wanted, would you like to swap?” Caleb asked, his voice quiet. 

Veth wriggled her fingers together with a little, looking at the card, “Only if you want to Caleb.”   
Caleb nodded presenting the card to her. “Thank you.”   
  


Molly watched as Caleb’s eyebrows furrowed together, he couldn’t help but wonder what was going on inside they very pretty head of his. Although, as was the case for all his friends, he wasn’t sure he would like what he found. 

The game went well, silently agreed to play cards up to make the game easier on Caleb, who took to the mechanics like a duck to water. While he was not as vocal as the rest of the group he did make some suggestions as to be more effective, he also easily took suggestions without getting defensive like Beau would. Molly would call that a win. 

At some point Cad came in, handing them all a cup of some kinda fruity tea and sat on the couch. Occasionally contributing to the discussions but mostly watching. 

They all managed to win the game after a few close calls, Jester and Not letting out a couple whoops once the final disease marker was moved to “cured.” 

“Do you guys want to play another game or not really?” Jester asked as she put away the game. 

“I think I’ve had enough for now, sorry.” Fjord drawled, leaning back on his hands. 

“Yeah I think I need some quiet time,” Yasha said as she stood up, groaning a little as she stretched her legs. 

“I was thinking about getting started with dinner?” Caduceus said, collecting the array of cups from the table. “Anyone want to join?”  
  
There was a prolonged silence, since his arrival Cad had proven he was excellent at cooking and while the others went terrible (mostly) they tended to leave the man to do his thing unless he expressly asked for him, which he assured them he would do if he truly needed it. 

Surprisingly, Caleb stood and bobbed his head a little, “ I will help if you would like?”   
  
Cad looked at him, an easy smile on the firbulgs face. “By all means, you’re more than welcome.” 

Mollymauk watched at Caleb followed Cad through the doorway. 

~  
  
That evening, Caleb felt exhausted. After playing the game with the others he spent the rest of the day in the kitchen aiding Caduesues in any way he could. He had mostly ended up cooking the meat.   
“I’m vegetarian,” Cadudesus had said in his low rumble as he showed Caleb where the cutting board was. “So I like to avoid working with meat as much as I can.” Caleb cut the chicken breast into strips and sprinkled seasoning over the raw flesh. “ No judgement, of course, I’m just not a fan.”

Caleb had watched the chicken sizzle as he grilled it in the hot pan, crispening in the oil. He felt sick. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

Dinner had been loud as always. He tried to be more sociable, it was rude to not speak to those who were hosting you. He couldn’t keep continuing being so childish as to not talk to them, even though he felt he was breaking a rule, he knew, knew logically that this was fine. It was clear that it was prefered that he speak. He was met with near surprised smiles when he voiced an option during the game without being prompted.   
  
If he was quiet again, he would most likely be corrected. Caleb didn’t want to see what a correction looked like in this place. 

So he spoke up during intervals during dinner, forced eye contact despite how it hurt his head and made it hard to focus on much else. He kept his hands either gripping his cutlery or by his side, forcing them into stillness. 

When he had closed the bedroom door behind him, he had allowed himself a few self-indulgent flaps. He knew it was disobedient of him, it felt wrong and dangerous, but it displaced some of the sickly energy building in his gut. 

He debated just going to sleep, leaving his journalling until when the morning sun woke him. But decided against it, he wanted to write down his findings while they were freshest. Taking the notebook he had been given in the ward out from under his mattress and a mechanical pencil he had found in the desks draws. He wrote his best deductions for the unspoken rules and preferences. 

When he was satisfied, he tucked the notebook back under the mattress and curled under the covers, praying for a dreamless sleep. 

STANDARD RULES: 

  * Do not question your superiors 
  * Do not show weakness
  * Do not show your oddities - hand flapping, rocking, ect
  * If you do not know, ask 
  * Report your wrongdoings 
  * Follow orders
  * Do not displease your superiors   




ADDITIONAL RULES: 

  * Do not eat food that has been labelled with another’s name.
  * Do not leave without permission from Marion
  * Do not enter a room without permission
  * Do not make noise past 9pm



PREFERENCES 

  * Engage in conversation (all) 
  * Aid with kitchen duties (Caduceus) 
  * Give things wanted by the others ( Veth, &?) 
  * Lunch is not permitted
  * Initiative is expected during meal times
  * Eat during mealtimes 



CORRECTIONS

  * ???
  * Will continue with Ikithons orders of self-correction when needed until specified otherwise.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I feed of comments!
> 
> Btw Molly's opinions about Monopoly may be some self-projection, I work in a TTG shop and when ppl come in being like "oh we've played monopoly and aren't that into board games but are there any you can recommend" my soul leaves my body as I overload those poor customers with not shitty games. 
> 
> Also, why do i keep putting the whole group on a room that shit is hard to keep track off especially in terms fo dialogue i have no idea how the rest of you'll do that 
> 
> If u wanna chat come hmu on Tumblr @TeiflingBoi


	3. Chapter 3: Therapy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb has an introductory 1-1 therapy session with Vex, and the next day Molly leanrs some new info about Caleb in group therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I'm gonna be really honest rn, Im not suuuuper happy with this chapter but its the best I'm gonna get.   
> I'm a bit of a self-destructive asshole who ghosts all my therapists after like 3 sessions so I don't really have a lot of knowledge on what a good therapy session or therapist should look like so i did my best. 
> 
> this chapter is kinda a transitional one as well which I suck at. Anyways I hope you enjoy

Caleb near prided himself on his abilities to keep his wants to himself. This was something Ikithon had always drilled into him and his peers. Do you  _ need _ it or  _ want _ it? Survive on only what you need, wants were for the weak. He would not show his weakness. He was good at it. 

But by all the Gods old and new did he want to pet that fucking dog. 

The large rottweiler, Trinket, was owned by the group homes on call and main psychiatrist. Vex was a half-elven woman, with dark hair and eyes. She was intimidating but presented herself which such an air of friendliness it was disconcerting. Even now as she sat across from him, Trinket at her side, he could feel those dark eyes watching him, assessing him. 

“If Trinket makes you uncomfortable, he can sit in another room.” He hadn’t been aware he’d been staring at the dog, but as she spoke he was suddenly conscious of it. 

“Unless you wish to, I do not mind,” Caleb replied, moving his eyes to look at Vex’s face. He couldn’t quite meet her eyes but he knew that most people wouldn’t notice if his gaze fixed near enough to the eye; so he focused his gaze on her right eyebrow. “I, uh, He is a charmer, “ He hesitated, unsure if it would be alright for him to mention his preference for felines. “I am, better with cats, but dogs, I am still comfortable with  _ ja _ .” 

“You can pet him if you’d like.” 

He frowned, was this a test? Surely it would not be as simple at that? Perhaps she had sensed his wanting and weakness. 

“Thank you, but that is not necessary.” 

  
“Alright,” She tilted her head, Caleb found it very hard not to avert his gaze, but he kept it on her eyebrow. “So Caleb, can you tell me why you believe that you’re here? I don’t need details right now unless you want to share them. But this session is really just us getting to know each other.”    
  
He swallowed. Why did he believe he was here? He knew, logically that his life since he had left his small town had been objectively terrible, that it had left him, unlike other people. But it had been for his own good. 

“I have gone through trauma.” The police and other therapist had said as much, this was a group home for people who have been through trauma. 

“Can you elaborate.” She was writing something in her notebook, what was she writing? 

“ I, uh.” He scrambled for the correct answer, “My private tutelage outside of the academy, it was, I have been told that there are high authorities who are investigating it, that it should not have happened, that it was not correct.” 

His gaze had slid back to the floor when he had lost his focus, he dragged his eyes back to her. “Is that an adequate answer?” 

“If that’s all you’d like to say about it Caleb its alright, we can move on.”    
  
He didn’t say anything in response, instead bobbed his head in compliance. 

“It says on your file you were studying at the Soltryce Academy that’s a primarily arcane school yes? I myself have limited magical knowledge, could you tell me about yours?” 

This, this Caleb could discuss.    
  
“Well, I studied mostly in evocation although in my earlier years I dabbled in other schools such as transmutation. It is- Magic, it is something that I am always fascinated about, there is so much knowledge, _ so much.”  _ _   
_ _   
_ “Evocation is the manipulation-y kind of magic?”    
  
“Well they’re all forms of manipulation of arcane energy but yes, evocation is often seen as the energy transferal and manipulation.” He stopped, realising what he had just done, the way in which he spoke to Vex, assuming her lack of knowledge, was incredibly disrespectful. “I uh, apologise, I get excited about this topic.” \

  
  
“What’re you apologising for Caleb?” 

He considered his words and actions very carefully, suddenly aware of how large a creature Trinket was. Although very charming, an animal like that could be very dangerous if set upon him. 

“I spoke in a disrespectful way to you, my apologies.” He bowed his head, forcing his eyes to stare straight ahead of him. 

“Caleb, there was no point in that conversion in which I felt you were being disrespectful.” She spoke over the scribble of pen on paper. Caleb didn’t move, “But if it will make you feel better you’re apology is accepted.” 

He did his best to quell the tremor in his fingers. 

“Thank you.”    
  
“Do you have a favourite spell?” 

Caleb blinked, only now realising that part of him had been waiting for a correction. He was slowly becoming accustomed to the lack of strict discipline, strange as it was. Yet he still waited for the punishment he was surly due by now, all his mistakes piling onto him gains of sand in a timepiece, so small and almost insignificant to start with but now, he felt surrounded by his failures. He was a fool, to think that this new environment would change anything, he was still the  _ failure _ , the one who  _ broke _ under the strain, he still needed to work to better himself, to be better, to not be so weak,  _ useless _ . For the first time since he had been taken from Ikithons manor, he wished he had his teachers guidance. Perhaps if he could- 

Suddenly a dogs head was on his lap. 

He blinked. 

Trinkets head was heavy against his thighs, the dog’s eyes looking up at him. He looked towards Vex for permission to touch him. She smiled and nodded. 

His hands run against the short fur, he scratched trinket behind the ears. This was a good dog. 

“Caleb, what are 5 things you can see in the room around us?” 

He wasn’t sure what the purpose of this question was, but he didn’t question it. 

“Trinket, green chair, the rug,” He paused, he could see so many things but he needed to reel in his mind to better focus in the specifics. “A painting, and uhh you.”    
  
“How do you feel, would you like to take a break for today?”    
  
He couldn’t show weakness. 

“I am alright to keep going if I may.”    
  
She nodded, “Alright then, but if you need to call it its alright, therapy can be very stressful.” Caleb continued to run his hands across the dog’s face and neck, watching Trinkets tail swish too-and-frow. 

“What happened just then?” She asked he felt his stomach churn with anxiety. 

“My apologies, I did not answer, could you please repeat it?” 

“I don’t mind about the question Caleb, nor do you need to apologise” Her voice was soft, he hated it, hated this gentleness that he did not earn nor deserve. “You went into yourself a bit there, would you like to talk about it?” 

He considered lying, but he knew that if caught in a lie from a superior, the gentleness he had been granted would be all taken away, to lie to one’s superiors is the worst offence. Perhaps that is why, for that fraction of a second he considered it, considered lying to finally be punished. Finally, stop having to walk on eggshells and finally get what was coming to him. He was, however, a coward. He couldn’t bring himself to incur such wrath. Even if he knew he would deserve every bit of it. 

“I felt,” he paused, admitting his own weakness was something he always struggled with, “lost. There are many more variables here, I am aware that my past situation was outside the norm of what a life should look like. But it had rules, routines, structures. Guidance. I do not have that here.”

Vex nodded in understanding. “Thank you for your honesty.” He wasn’t sure why he was being thanked for something that should be a given. But he did not question it. “Perhaps we can work together to create some routine?” 

He nodded his head, this felt like a step in a good direction.

  
  


After the session he found himself in his room, exhausted. It was only 3 in the afternoon and he wanted nothing more to curl up in his bed and to sleep. But he forced himself to sit beside the bed on the floor and read for the remaining hours before dinner, he was nearing the end of the books he had been supplied, many he had not particularly enjoyed but they had been something. 

When Veth came and collected him for dinner he had been staring at the one page blankly for near 3 minutes. His mind wandering a dark void, empty of thought. He was surprised, as he followed Veth, to find that they were heading towards the living room and not dining area. 

Everyone sat on the plethora of couches, Marion seemed to be going over something in the notepad she held in her hands but smiled at their entrance. 

“Ah, there you two are,” she said in her melodic cadence. “We’re getting pizza tonight, what would you like?” 

“Just the lot.” Veth shrugged going to sit beside Jester. Remembering that he needed to take initiative during meal times he moved towards the empty space beside Yasha, he paused silently asking permission, she granted it motioning for him to sit. 

“And you Caleb?” Marion turned, looking at him expectantly. 

He had no idea, he rarely had had choice in his eating habits, Ikithon always dictated when and what mealtimes were. On the rare occasion when the master was away, leaving Caleb and his peers to train and study they had all stuck to the schedule set out to them, the house staff providing meals. Once during these occasions, Astrid and he had snuck into the kitchen in the early morning stealing two freshly baked bread rolls, still warm. They had giggled to themselves in their disobedience. But the memory was tainted by the correction they had received; the phantom ache of the belt against his thighs, the blood trickling down his legs where the buckle met flesh. 

“M-May I look at a-a menu?” he stuttered out, shocked by the sudden uninvited memory. 

The small paper menu was passed down the line of people until Yasha handed it to him, her two-toned eyes looking at him with a look Caleb could not identify. 

He looked through the menu, none of these options seemed appealing to him. He chose the plainest option he could find. 

“May I have a small margarita please?” He handed the menu back down the mine as Marion scribed his order on the notepad. 

“Of course Caleb.” She smiled. 

The room then seemed to disburse somewhat after Marion had called the shop. Beau saying to yell for her when the delivery arrived as she headed back upstairs. Caduceus stating he was going to meditate outside for a short while and Fjord following behind him. Marion went to her office claiming she needed to make a few quick phone calls. Veth had gone through the door which leads to the kitchen without explanation. 

Those remaining were much quieter than Caleb had ever seen them. Jester scrolled on her phone, moving her head slightly to the music that surely came from her earphones. Molly's head rested in her lap as he stretched across the loveseat, arm bent over his eyes. His breathing of someone not quite asleep but not quite awake. Yasha still sat beside him, she seemed to be lost in thought, her eyes resting on the two tieflings. 

Caleb considered if he was supposed to leave, was about to ask when Yasha spoke softly, still not looking at him. 

“You spend a lot of time in your room.” 

It wasn’t accusatory, more so just a statement. But he couldn’t help worry he had done something to displease her or anyone in the home for that matter. 

“ _ Ja _ .” He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. 

“I get that,” she still didn’t look at him which felt like a blessing of some sorts, as he was able to keep his eyes planted ahead of him on the carpeted floor. “But if you want to… Well, you don't have to is what I’m saying. If u want to be alone but you want to be in the living room, or outside, or anywhere you can do it.” she paused, “Its less lonely that way.” 

It was at this moment he felt a sort of kinship with this woman. She was physically imposing, he didn't’ doubt that should she wish it she could bring serious harm to another, as could he. Yet in all his, albeit short, time here she was like him in deminer. Quiet and soft-spoken. She was still his superior, but for a moment he felt like she was like him in a way. 

And she granted him permission to have full movement around the home. It wasn’t something he had considered himself to be wanting, but it felt like a small weight had lifted from him. Perhaps he would read outside tomorrow. Perhaps. 

“ _ Danke _ -erm sorry, thank you Yasha.” 

She shifted, bumping his gently with her arm. An obvious correction for his native tongue. He was surprised by the softness of the correction. But then again Yasha didn’t strike him to be harsh in correction, no she would apply pressure until breaking point. But this was simply a reminder, a stop sign. He knew his native tongue was not something he should speak unless necessary.  _ Speak Zemni or speak Common, don't mix your words, Bren.  _

He bowed his head in apology. She didn’t respond but she did not continue to press. 

The rest of the evening came and went, the pizza’s arrived, everyone ate. Caleb forced down mouthfuls of bread, cheese and sauce. He felt distant as if he was interacting with the world with a glass screen between he and it. After eating, he returned to his room and slept. 

  
  
  


~

Mollymauk woke up to the feeling of dirt in his throat and noes. The feeling of choking on earth as he clawed his way out. A feral, animalistic fear tearing through him. 

And suddenly it was gone, his lungs were free and the dirt was off his face and he breathed deep and greedy breaths. He was home, he was in his bed, he was safe. He continued to breathe, willing his racing heart to stop fighting to jump out of his ribcage. 

He looked around, it was the hours of early daylight, the sun lazily pushing its way above the horizon and lighting his room in a glowing orange. He steadied himself. His room felt too small for him, his first moments of life he had been trapped and suffocating, his first months he had lived wildly and free, travelling and sleeping under the stars. Now he was stagnant, he was healing yes, and he knew this was good for him. But he was stagnant. 

Therapy always exhausted him, each week after his hour with Vex he would lie around, thinking, pondering, fighting the headaches that plagued him. Yesterday hadn’t even been a rough session, just discussing his feelings (urgh) and going through exercises Vex had laid out for him. He had yet to think of a future other than happy, Vex had said it was a good start but it annoyed him.    
He wanted to exist elsewhere than the here and now, he didn’t want to deal with the past of the person who had owned this body before he did. He didn’t want that and had told Vext as much. But a future, it felt like such a strange concept, but it was something he wanted. 

He spent the rest of the day feeling off, too big and too small at the same time. His nightmare fucking with him all day. His mantra repeating over and over in his mind, despite the pounding in his skull. 

_ I am Mollymauk Tealeaf. I exist, I am full of so many things, I am not empty.  _

That afternoon he perched on his chair for group therapy, the “fucked up brain room” as Beau and he called it privately to themselves, was a room dedicated to therapeutic purposes, walls not entirely blank but not full enough to be too distracting, a few framed motivational posters as well as a chart with words for different emotions. A box of comfort object in the corner. It was a nice room. 

Everyone sat in their circle, Vex with Trinket at her feet included. Currently, the discussion was on coping mechanisms, things they found useful. This topi was bought up regularly, as they all experimented and learned about themselves from time to time. 

Fjord was discussing how meditation with Caduceus while difficult, was helping him. Distantly Mollymauk was happy for him, he didn’t know much of Fjord’s story. But he knew he dreamed of drowning, noticed how he tried to subtly check that windows and doors were locked, always sat facing the room and doors if possible. Molly was glad he was finding peace in his own way. 

However, Molly was more focused on what the hell he was going to say when it got to his turn.

Too soon Fjord shrugged, passing the metaphorical baton to Molly, the eyes of his friends all turning to him. 

He tried for a nonchalant shrug. “Nothing changed, I have my mantras, I have my circus shit and I have my...” he made eye contact with Beau “tarot bullshittery.” 

Veth continued to look at him, he shrugged again, “nothing new to report.” 

Caleb’s answer had surprised him when the group turned their attention to him. The man sat beside Molly stiff as a brick, his eyes focused on the floor ahead of him. 

“I calm myself through my studies.”    
Molly had no idea how old people were when they left school, but it was before adulthood? Right? Caleb was probably around the age of 20, maybe 22 at most but that was past school age? But then again college was a thing, how old were people who did collage? 

  
“Oh~ What did you study?” Jester asked, her tail flicking in curiosity. 

“Magic, I ahh, I recite the components of spells if I am able to when I find myself overwhelmed. I sometimes cast spells with no components when I am able.” there was a slight smile to his voice.   
  
“Studying magic,” Fjord said his voice a pondering tone, “that’s pretty cool, that takes some real dedication.”    
  
Molly had to stifle a bark of laughter as he watched Calebs face turn a lovely shade of tomato. In all seriousness though, magic, that was impressive. Molly knew a little bit of basic magic as many people with a knack for it did. But to be able to cast anything of real substance, that was a feat, especially those who didn’t have help from a higher power (although Molly doubted many of those who claimed such magics) strong magic was a rare and awfully nerdy thing, perhaps a little sexy even. 

“It is,” Caleb paused a moment. “I have spent more of my life practising magic than I have not. So some might call me dedicated yes.” 

“Other than magic,” Vex spoke up, “what else would you consider a coping mechanism?” 

Calebs face continued to collect colour as he thought on the question. 

“My apologies, I believe that is it.” 

The group moved on. 

Later that afternoon, Molly, tired as all fuck. Couldn’t get the thought of Caleb being a wizard out of his head. He didn’t think he’d met a wizard before, but Caleb wasn’t what he had expected out of one, he knew not to trust TV, but all he saw on it in regards to wizards were mostly cool in demeanour, blunt and generally quite rude. The whole _ ‘oh I studied for most of my life and can now manipulate the energy of the universe’  _ arrogance that Caleb did not possess, maybe he had once before he went through whatever caused him to be here, caused him to stiffen is someone got to close, rarely make eye contact and get lost in himself probably more regularly than he showed. 

He couldn’t get the image out his head, Caleb stooped over some tomb or writing on the ground some arcane symbols that Molly had no hope of ever understanding. The ever slight smile in his voice when he mentioned his studies, in casting. 

Wizards need components right? That was something Caleb mentioned, perhaps it would be beneficial for molly to get him some basic supplies? It was a coping mechanism, after all, he’d be helping in the healing process. 

It had nothing to do with how very sexy the ever cold and shitty mages on Tv looked with their sleeves rolled up as they traced arcane symbols in the air. No, it was not therapy reasons. 

Some quick research and and money spent at an online specialist shop, Molly was rather pleased with himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed this, please feel free to give feedback, or any thoughts and theories.   
> And feel free to come yell about nerdy shit with me on tumblr @tielfing_boi


	4. Chapter 4: Bad Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb realises a flaw within the system of the recovery home in regards to the facts its literally just a bunch of traumatised people sharing a house. 
> 
> Molly get a delivery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys TW for this chapter   
> \- abandonment issues  
> \- bad mental health ( big shocker)   
> \- Abuse mentions and very small potential but unintentional gaslighting   
> \- Subtleish Suicide mentions   
> \- Self Harm (fire)   
> \- Self-harm mentions ( cutting)   
> \- Eating mentions and ED mentions. 
> 
> I think that's everything, lemme know If I need to add anything. Stay safe Ya'll.

Caleb, having spent enough time at the recovery home to better understand the intent behind it on Marion’s part, was beginning to see the flaws. 

That isn’t to say it wasn’t a good system, and he much preferred this world of colour and noise despite all its flaws in comparison to the ward or being back at school.    
But it was flawed. 

The major problem Caleb identified was by putting a group of people who are not mentally healthy and bare-bones in terms of staff ( If Marion, and having Vex on call even counted as bare-bones) there was a sense of self-government. The blind leading the blind. 

He hadn’t been aware of this until he walked downstairs one morning, hoping to read in the back garden before the rest of the house woke, to hear voices at the front door. 

For an instant, there was panic filling his lungs, the unspoken fear that he had been found by the other Volstriker, that he was to be taken from this place. But the voices were calm and familiar. 

Cautiously he went to the door, his hand shook as he reached to open it, he wasn’t sure if this was permitted, he doubted it. No, he was going to break a rule, stepping back he began to turn, to go back to his room. But the door opened behind him. 

Jester let out a sound of surprise, “Caleb!” He didn’t mean to flinch but he did, felt his throat tighten with anxiety, but Jester either did not notice or she did not care about his disobedience at this moment. “You’re here, okay that’s pretty good actually can you help Fjord please I gotta go get Momma.” and she walked past him and broke into a half jog towards Marion’s bedroom. 

Caleb turned and did his best to assess the current situation. Caduceus was dressed for travel, a bulging backpack on his shoulders. Fjord, shirtless and wearing pyjama pants holding the firbulgs arm. 

“Fjord, it’s okay I’ll come back I just need to check on them.” Caduceus seemed calm, his demeanour no different from any other day but under the surface, Caleb could see the tension in how forced the calm was, an edge of panic he knew well. 

“Cad, we can skype them right now. There no need for a cross country road trip.” It was strange, hearing the twinge of fear in Fjord voice, the strain to stay calm. 

Looking at these two men Caleb could see the deceptions of calm they both wore and the panic beneath those masks. It was disconcerting. Both were arguably the most constant in mood of the group, Caduseus’s gentle calm and Fjord solidity, both on the verge crumbling. 

“I can’t, I need to go to the Fjord. I appreciate your concern but I-I” His voice cracked, choked on emotion. 

Jester had given him the instruction to help Fjord, which now clearly meant he had to get Cadusues to stay. Okay. He quickly tucked his own emotions and confusions away, he had a task to do, he would be good and he would be useful. Fjord was clearly using coercion and persuasion and it would be best to assume that this was the approach to take as well. 

“Caduceus,” Caleb spoke carefully, thoughtfully, there was no room for a misstep. “You are upset, there is nothing wrong with this, but may I ask why?”  _ get information, to attack without intell is to attack blind and dumb, are you blind and dumb Bren? No, I thought not.  _

For the first time, this morning Caduceus looked at him, “I’m fine,” Caleb felt he was hyper-aware of everything in this moment, aware of the fine hairs on Caduceus face shifting in the slight breeze, the shifts in tone and voice and definitely away of the slight squeeze the Fjord gave the firbulgs arm under his grip. A correction to tell the truth. 

“I am worried about my family, they could be,” he paused, breathing deeply through his nose and out through his mouth, “If I skype them or call, or text and they don’t answer if they’re not okay I won’t know so it will be better if I just go be with them. It’s better that way.” His eyes were glassy, tears threatening to spill as he seemed to fight to keep his emotions down. 

“So, you fear a non-answer?” Caleb asked, “and due to this, you do not ask at all?” He was careful with his tone, keeping to caring and not harsh. 

Caduesues clenched his jaw, “Its not.. I’m not- “    
  
“Would it be useful, if you attempted to contact them first, and if there is no answer within a certain time, then you could go check on them?” He took a step forward, twisting his face into one of sympathy, and caring. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, it’s simply that emotions took a backseat, what mattered now was results. 

It was as if Cadusesu were a puppet, and someone had cut his strings. His whole body slumped, head dropping forwards. He didn’t quite drop to the ground, but Fjord rushed to hold him as if he were.    
“I’m doing it again aren’t I?” a barely-there whisper, only audible to Caleb due to his heightened state of awareness. Fjord released the firbulg’s arm and placed a hand gently on his face. 

“Just a bit yeah, come inside Cad, lets put on some tea and call your family and then we’ll call Vex, alright.”    
  
“Yeah,” He sounded tired and sad. “Alright.” 

Caleb sidestepped to allow the two to pass and followed behind, his hands behind his back and posture upright. The readiness he had felt when given a task was starting to fade, the word becoming duller around the edges, he was not about to fight, to hurt or be hurt, no interrogation or spy work. Just to help someone see clearly. 

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to leave, so he didn’t risk disobedience and decided to stay until dismissed. Following the two into the living area, he gave Marion and Jester a kurt nod as they entered. 

“Cad?” Marion asked, eyes searching for something in the man’s face, “where are you sitting at right now? 1-10?” 

Caduceus’s gaze turned inwards for a moment, thinking. “Five maybe? 4.5?” 

  
Marion nodded taking some meaning from the number Caleb didn’t know. “I’ll call Vex and see if she can come in today, is that alright.”    
  
Caduceus nodded, dragging a hand through his long pink hair, “Yeah that's fine Marion, sorry for all this trouble.”    
  
“Oh its no trouble at all, you deserve help when you need it.” 

Marion turned and exited, heading in the direction of her office, Jester wavered at the doorway. “You want me to stay ‘Duces?”    
“Yeah,” He smiled, “if you don’t mind?”    
  
Caleb remained standing, having moved himself to the corner of the room, ready for action but out of the way. He watched as the firbulg took his phone out of a pocket in the pack back, and went through the motions of unlocking and activating whatever application he used to communicate with his family. He hesitated, looking at Fjord who nodded, taking a hand and placing it on the man’s shoulder silently. Nodding to himself he pushed past whatever he was fighting in himself and pressed a button. 

The sound of ringing filled the room, stacking itself on top of the tension. 

A moment, a held breath. 

Then the cacophonous sound of someone picking up and voices in the background. 

“Caduceus!” a young woman called out from the video chat, from where he was Caleb couldn’t see the screen, but he watched as Caduceus shoulders slumped in relief, and a smile cracks across his face. 

“Clarabelle.”    
  
“What’s up? Oh is that Fjord and Jester? Hi guys!” 

The conversation continued for some time, Caleb tried not to eavesdrop too much, but it seemed to be general. He wasn’t sure if Clarabelle suspected her brother's previous distress but if she did she didn’t mention it, nor did the others when the phone was passed along to other members of the household. Caduceus had a large family it seemed, full of alliterative names. 

The chatter was, generally cheerful, and as he continued to talk the simmering tension under the false calm Caleb had sensed in the young man had all but faded, it was still there; perhaps it was always there and Caleb had simply never noticed it… It was offputting, the easy way in which the family behind the phone interacted, the gentle teasing and completely relaxed way in which they addressed one another. He wondered if his home life had been like that, before. He had been what? 9? He had faint memories of baking cookies and board games, a cat and a local park. But when his visits home turned into supervised dinners, there had been no ease, pleasantry among strangers who were his kin. 

“Cay-leb~” Jester's voice cut him out of his introspection, “you wanna come sit down?” 

He wordlessly followed the other, sitting on the couch next to the group, close enough to not seem rude- Jester seemed to prefer close proximity. But not close enough as to seem like he was assuming the order as an invitation to sit with the group. 

Caduceus had finished his call and was giving Caleb an odd searching look at he didn’t care for but suppressed showing it. 

“Thank you, Caleb,” the firbulg said, Caleb, fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt, rubbing soothing circles into the hem. “I suppose you may like an explanation as to what that was about?”    
  
Why didn’t it matter what he liked? He had done his task, perhaps it was now a duty of his- to aid Fjord? To keep Caduceus from leaving? He wasn’t sure.    
  
“If you would like to explain the situation you are welcome to.” that was a safe answer, not a yes or a know, simply letting the asker do as they will. 

Caduceus hummed, reaching for the teapot Jester had placed on the coffee table and putting himself a cup, and then one for the three others who sat. Caleb hid his surprise that he was being extended such courtesy. Above, the sound of movement and the shower running drifted down. 

“About 2 years ago, my family left to go see some extended relatives,” Caduceus started, his gaze weighing heavily on Caleb who fought to keep his eyes near the man's eyes, “I decided to stay, I was about 17 and its a big family, the first time I would have the place to myself. Plus we have a small graveyard, not many people seek our services as they’re unorthodox, but it best to have someone around to tend to the place. I was happy to stay.”    
  
He breathed heavily. Paused. Then continues. 

“They were meant to be gone for a short time, a two or three weeks at most, and even then they’d stay in contact. On the 6th day, they stopped calling, no texts, emails, nothing. No one's social media updated, they all just stopped. The first few days I wasn’t worried, they were busy. 

But then it was a week, then two, then three. No word from them. I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed, I kept busy. I didn’t leave the house, I couldn’t, they might of come back when I wasn’t there and then leave when they couldn’t find me- It was silly. I know, but still. Eventually, after 3 months, My father called me. There had been a car crash. They’d all been in some medically induced coma, I don't know the details, but they were all okay, he was the first to wake up. I got to the hospital as soon as I could but that took some times- I cant drive you see. But they were okay. “ He took a sip from his tea, the slightest of tremors in his hand causing the cup to shake. 

“The isolation, it stuck with me. As did the fear for my family. When they came back, you couldn’t detach me from them with a crowbar.” he chuckled, “I don't like being away from them, but I think I need to be if I ever can be okay being away from them - if that makes sense?”    
  
Caleb nodded mutely. 

“Sometimes I get a bit, impulsive, I’m too scared to be met with silence again but I cant not know they’re okay. It all becomes a bit… much. Thank you for talking to me, I needed it.”    
  
“ _ Ja, _ \- ah sorry, it is, I am happy to be of service to you, to you all that is.”    
  


The rest of the day came and went in a blur, Vex visiting and speaking with Caduceus in the therapy room. Dinner, in which the firbulg in question needed to be coerced by Fjord to eat more than a few slices of cucumber, and the evenings wind down. The natural routine finding itself. 

The flaw and need for self-government in the ways of mental health was prominent in smaller things as well. 

One afternoon Beau and Mollymauk sat in the middle of the living area as Caleb walked in, a pile of odd socks between them. He had needed to actively stop himself from backpedalling out of the room ( _ You walk in and out with purpose boy, don’t show weakness in uncertainty) _ , Beau had clearly displeased Mollymauk who folded the socks with a jagged movement clearly directed at the human woman. A punishment was clearly close to happening, so Caleb began to politely turn to give them privacy when Molly had called out, voice more chipper than he would have expected. 

“Caleb, if you’re not busy could ya’ lend a hand? This is getting ridiculous.” 

_Oh, gods_. Caleb swallowed the lump in his throat and sat beside Beau. He hated being asked to carry out corrections on others, generally, it was only needed when he himself had stood up for the individual, it was a correction for himself as well he knew. What had he done to upset Mollymauk? He wracked his mind as he aided in the sock sorting. 

After five minutes of Caleb's silent pondering, Mollymauk sighed heavily causing himself and Beau to flinch. 

“Okay, what is with you two?” Molly asked, throwing a sock into the pile, “you both acting like I ate your puppy and killed santa.”    
  
“What's with us?” Beau’s voice was cutting, causing Caleb to cringe, backchat did you no good. “You’re clearly pissed off with me and being all passive-aggressive about it asshole.” 

  
“How in the world am I being passive-aggressive?” Mollymauk looked incredulous. “All we’ve been doing is folding this stupid socks.” He looked between the both of them, clearly addressing them both. 

“You’re folding the socks angrily at me.” Beau crossed her arms, “its pretty fucking obvious.”    
  
“That is  _ not _ a thing a person can do!” 

“May I speak?” Caleb asked, sensing the conversation would run in circles if it was left to those two. 

Mollymauk granted him permission with a nod. 

“It did appear to me when I first entered, that you were upset with Beauregard, as you folded the socks in a manner that indicated this. Is this not the case?” 

“How do you fold a sock angrily?” Molly asked, sounding astonished. 

“Pretty fucking simple,” Beau growled then demonstrated with two socks of a different pattern, folding them at Mollymauk

“That’s literally just folding a sock.”    
  
Beau shrugged. “I dunno man, it's just how it is, and Caleb saw it too so it's not just me” She folded another pair, “Maybe its an abuse thing?” She looked at Caleb then at Mollymauk. “You really can't tell the difference between this and.. This?” she folded two more, once angrily directed at Mollymauk and the other relaxed without direction.    
  
Molly shrugged. "No" 

“Weird.”    
  


The days continued to pass, small events happening throughout. Occasionally Caleb found himself reeling from his own weaknesses by the unknowing actions or phrases of the others. Jester screams waking him at night setting off alarm bells in his head, heat flicking in his hands as he lit them ready for an attack only to hear her apologise and call out it as a bad dream. He spent the rest of the night spiralling into memories he'd rather leave untouched, fire and flame behind his eyes ashes coating his tongue. 

_ Maybe it's an abuse thing?  _

He knew logically he hadn’t been treated right but abuse was a bit much, he was simply disciplined, made stronger. A weapon forged in the flames, he needed to be strong after all. Weak as he was. Abuse, she had assumed this about him, did he seem abused? Perhaps he had let his won weaknesses show too much. It couldn’t have been, because if it was abuse, for all those years, that would make him a victim, something he was not. He couldn’t be. 

He knew he did not have permission to cast magic, but when reciting all components wasn’t enough. He allowed himself a small rebellion in the hours were late and early mixed together. A simple firebolt held in his hand, a simple enough spell. At school, he had been taught that you could hold it for 6, 12 seconds at the most before the flames would grow too hot in your hand and begin to burn them. The damage would disappear with the spell, but the pain would make your hands feel raw and exposed. 

He sat for an hour, watching the flame turn his hands black with soot. 

He could  _ not  _ be weak. 

~ 

It had been a rough week. Jesters nightmares were back and seemed to be setting everyone- Molly included, off. 

The bags under Yasha’s eyes grew in depth and darkness, Fjord was getting jumpy again, ’Duces was calling his family twice a day and texting non-stop if he wasn’t meditating, Veth’s showers lasted less then Molly guessed Ben Shapiro did in bed which means maybe 2 minutes at best, Beau more defensive than usual which was saying something, Caleb still looked like a kicked puppy most of the time but now he seemed to be dissociation on some level for the past 3 days, and Molly kept fighting of flashbacks of grave dirt. Not to mention Jester was crying at the drop of a hat. 

This week sucked major balls. It was as simple as that. 

He was pleased, however, when a rather large box arrived at the front doorstep one midmorning. 

Knocking on Caleb's door Molly tried to school his face, he couldn’t look too excited, maybe the man didn’t even want to do magic, or maybe he wouldn’t do anything interesting with it, or anything Molly could watch - which he didn’t mind it was none of his business. 

The look of confusion on Caleb's face was kinda adorable as he opened the door to find Molly standing there with a hefty box in his arms. 

“I have something for you,” Molly grinned extending the box out to the redhead. 

“I-I For?” Caleb spluttered as he took the box from Molly's hands, stepping back and placing it on his bed. “May I ask what it is?”    
  
“Open it and you’ll find out.” 

The human frowned in confusion at him but began to rip the packing tape, Molly watched, delighted as he saw Caleb realise what the contents of the box were. Mouth agape he took out each item with a sense of care and gentleness that you might think it would break if you breathed to hard on them. 

The pack mostly consisted of quality inks and paper, incense, crystals and metal things (? Molly wasn’t quite sure) feathers and other animal products, chalks. To anyone else, it would be a box of overpriced knickknacks and junk. 

But it was clear that to Caleb there were all items of import. Molly gave himself a mental pat on the back. 

The redhead turned to look at him, eyes filled with a light Molly hadn’t seen since his arrival. 

“I- Thank you, Mollymauk. This is- I… If there a spell you wish of me?” 

Molly shook his head, “No Caleb, I just knew that magic’s important to you, so I thought I would help you be able to get back into it. I don’t know shit about arcane arts so hopefully, this is useful to you.”    
  
“It is, oh it is all, very usefully.”    
  
“I’m glad,” Molly smiled, “I think its fascinating, not something I could do- like music you know? I can't play but I love hearing what others create.”    
  
“Oh” Caleb turned, taking out some of the components from its packaging muttering a few things under his breath, this was the most lively Molly had seen him this week, maybe since his arrival even. “If you would like, perhaps I could do something now, and you could watch me? If this would please you?”    


“If you’d like Caleb, I’d love to watch you work.”    
  
The human turned, a dazzling smile on his face. “ I will need to draw on the ground in chalk, would it be best if I did so outside?”    
  
“Probably, I’ll meet you out there?”    
  
“ _ Ja, _ sorry- yes okay, I will meet you once I gather what I need.”

  
  
Molly made his way out of the room and decided to detour quickly to Marion’s office and requesting access to the storage shed. 

“Lyra or Silks?” Marion asked looking up from a stack of paperwork. 

“Lyra, I don't think silks are a good idea this week with everyone how they are,” He shrugged leaning on the desk. 

“You’re not wrong. Who’s supervising?”    
  


“Mr Caleb, believe it or not, and he's not spacey at the moment either!” He reassured her as she gave him a warning look. “Most alert I’ve seen him for a while now.”    
  
“Alright but If I come to check on you to find that man dissociating into the void and you swinging from your horns you’ll be doing dishes for the next month.”    
  
“Yes ma'am”    
  
Key in hand he took the steps two at a time and launched himself through the back door. The back garden was spacious, with a large oak tree in the back. When he had arrived, he had begged Marion to let him set up an areal rid from its branches. Eventually, she had relented on the conditions of supervision and limited access. It was understandable, probably not a good idea to give a mentally unstable idiot some aerial silks, and unlimited access to a nice big tree to swing from.

Today he pulled his Lyra, a sturdy hoop, from the shed and made quick work of rigging it. Caleb joined him not long into the process. Blinking at him in surprise before seeming to remember the fact that he was a circus freak. 

After a quick stretch Molly began to play, he didn’t do anything complex or new, just going through old routines and tricks he enjoyed as he watched Caleb work across the yard. His sleeves were pulled up and he was working on arcane symbols, etching them into the pavement. Spirling out from a centrepiece. 

It all looked like nonsense to Molly, but he could recognise a pattern, a formula. Gods magic was beautiful stuff. Nerdy and mind-bending boggling stuff, but beautiful nonetheless. 

After the first forty minutes, Molly simply sat in the Lyra, swinging slightly for the fun of it as he watched Caleb work. He was muttering to himself. It seemed like Zemnian, which wasn’t surprising given the accent but he’d hardly heard him speak it apart from the occasional word. 

He could have been reciting his grocery list for all molly knew, and the glyphs on the ground could be the arcane equivalent to writing the word Boobs on a calculator for all Molly knew, but it sent a shiver up his spine watching it all unfold. 

After what must have been an hour, Caleb lit a series of herbs and incense in some sort of pot. His hands formed a series of complicated gestures as he spoke an incantation, it continues to grow in complexity, the symbols on the ground glowing. Molly jumped down of the Lyra, stepping closer for a better look. 

Caleb's iris were slowing the same pale blue of the sigils, he finished a series of words and intricate finger movements, Molly felt his hair on the back of his neck stand up on edge. 

And then there was a distinct  _ POP _ in the centre of the circle. 

And then there was a cat. 

Molly blinked at the cat. 

The cat blinked back at him, the looked around at the yard around it. 

Caleb’s face which had been serious throughout the casting broke into a large smile. “Frumpkin.” He cooed and the cat came running, leaping into the man's arms, purring as loud as a bulldozer. It bumped his head against Caleb's forehead, paws kneading into his chest.

Caleb was muttering low in zemnian again in a way that Molly was sure it was baby talk towards the cat. 

After a moment, He stopped embracing the cat and looked up at Molly, his smile faltering but not leaving his face thank gods- he had a wonderful smile.    
  
“This is Frumpkin, he is my familiar.” 

Molly wracked his mind for what he knew from familiars in the TV shows he watched, “Those are like, fey pets right? And you can see through them and stuff?”

“It is more complex than that but yes.”    
  
“He’s very cute.”    
  
“Ja, he is.” Caleb said looking at the orange tabby. Molly didn’t point out that he didn’t apologise for that time for speaking zemnian, but he did that note. 

“I’m really happy I could help you get him back Caleb, and thank you for letting me watch. It was very cool.”    
  
“Thank you as well, I owe you a great debt.”    
  
“You don't owe me anything Caleb, just seeing you happy is enough.” The man’s eyebrows furrowed at that, but he said nothing. He continued to run his hand through his cat's fur, cooing at the furball intermediately. Molly felt weird just staring him hug his cat and turned to pack away the Lyra but caught himself, Caleb's sleeves were still rolled up and now visible were a series of scars, molly was no one to judge, he had many of his own but he distinctly remembered a pair of scissors sitting on Caleb's desk - a luxury Molly was not yet permitted. 

He may need to speak with Marion or Vex, not now. But soon. 

Molly packed away his Lyra, and Caleb cleaned up the pavement- his cat around his neck like a scarf. Molly watched him when he wasn’t looking he watched the man work, scrubbing away the marks as diligently as he had placed them. 

  
He could see Caleb's true self peeking out at the edges now, he was a man who wore many masks. It made Molly's skin itch with curiosity just for morbid curiosities sake even though he didn’t really care about the pasts of his friends he respected its effects on them nonetheless.    
But the masks and walls were very slowly coming down now, and Molly was very very curious as to who he may have the pleasure of meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I was a lil spacy while writing this so hopefully it flows and reads well lmao   
> Please let me know what you think as per usual I get almost all my social validation from this fucker 
> 
> If you wanna talk to me about this or have any questions or just feel like hanging out hmu on tumblr   
> @teiflingboi 
> 
> love youuuuuu alllllll


	5. Chapter 5: Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb decides the best way to find purpose through the payment of a perceived debt. 
> 
> Things go a bit sideways. 
> 
> Molly makes a dumb decision. 
> 
> Veth snoops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first big ol' shoutout to my beta reader / amazing proof reader Doctor_Incubus on AO3/ gay-alchemist on tumblr  
> They've jumped aboard during the creation of this chapter and I honestly didn't realise my grammar and typos were that bad until I looked at the google doc after they saw all the corrections lmaooo they've been an enormous help and its been great to have another set of eyes on this story to help me keep it going in the right direction! 
> 
> Okii so TW's for this chapter:  
> \- Unreliable narrator  
> \- Internalised ableism  
> \- Autistic meltdown/panic attacks  
> \- A very small moment of violence.  
> \- Self-harm references  
> \- Offhand mention of drowning  
> \- Disasociation 
> 
> I think that's everything, lemme know if I need to add anything xx Stay safe ya'll

Life was good for Caleb, he had his cat, and he now had a purpose. 

It hadn't been expressly given to him, he had come to doubt that those at the home understood the need for purpose in one's life. He didn’t hold that against them, nor did he think he was better for it. It was simply a fact, he was different. ( _ You are Volstrucker, you are not like the others at the academy. Act like it.) _

It was a self-appointed duty, but it was important nonetheless. He would serve Mollymauk. 

He owed the man a debt, he had not only granted him permission to do magic again but had given him the means to do more than a simple cantrip. He had allowed Caleb to get Frumpkin back. Caleb didn’t have much, he had no income, he had no worldly possessions except those given to him by Marion. All he had was his service. So he would serve. 

Ikithon had always placed a weight in the debts owed by the Voltrucker. He fed and clothed them, he gave them components, gave them books, he gave them spells, he taught them all they knew. All magic that flowed through them had Ikithon at its source. They relied on him for it, for guidance, and in return they served. 

Caleb could no longer serve his teacher (Would he again? Given the chance? He wasn’t so sure now), so he would serve Mollymauk. 

The tiefling seemed perplexed by Caleb’s change in routine but he did not ask and Caleb selfishly did not supply an answer. It was perhaps that he knew, deep down, that Molly would not approve of Caleb’s subservience. Even so, surely once Caleb made himself useful he would not take such objections. These people simply did not realise the tool that Caleb was meant to be, they did not see that he could be useful if given the chance. 

The morning after he summoned Frumpkin he went about his usual motions, asking Marion if there was anything he could do for her that day and getting the usual “No Caleb, thank you for offering.” However, instead of retreating to his room or behind a book, he instead went to Mollymauk who was currently speaking, already deep in conversation with Beau.    
  
“Yeah well I need new shoes and you keep picking fights wi- What’s up, Caleb?” Caleb fought the urge to glance at the ceiling, but he had learned by now the question wasn’t literal. 

“I was wondering if you would be in need of anything today Mollymauk?” He asked, careful to keep his tone conversational but polite, never demanding. 

Molly tilted his head, red eyes observant. 

“If you’d like you could hang out with me while Beau gets the shit kicked out of her?” There was a pause as Caleb thought through the correct answer to that question before Molly chuckled, “Beau’s going to her dojo to train and I wanna go shopping, you’re more than welcome to come if you’d like.”    
  
“It’s not a dojo you asshole.”    
  
“I refuse to believe that you’re a monk if you never take a vow of silence.” 

“Believe it when I kick your ass.”    
  
“Yeah yeah, so you in Caleb?” Mollymauk lifted an arm to ward off a litany of soft punches to the face from Beau which Caleb dutifully ignored. The relationship between those two was a difficult one, they seemed to each be able to correct each other for disobedience, mostly verbal backchat, but the punishments were always lax. This was most likely due to the hierarchy, or lack thereof within the group. 

“If it pleases you, I will come with you.” Caleb said, hands obediently folded behind his back. 

Mollymauk instructed him to prepare for the outing and meet him and Beau at the front door in 20 minutes. He didn’t really have much to prepare, he only had three outfits, all of them a variant of tracksuit pants and a shirt. When he’d been told to pack a bag by the officers he hadn’t known what to take, he owned nothing. He risked taking his tomes and spellbook, but the ward had taken them when he had been admitted. They, however, had seen fit to give him the few articles of clothing and toiletries he had taken to Marion's.    
  
So he wasn’t sure what to prepare for the outing. He ultimately decided to simply slip his shoes on, take a pocketful of spell components and wait at the door. 

When Mollymauk returned he was in the most colourful outfit Caleb had ever seen. A patchwork coat that flowed behind him in a shock of blues, purples and reds. A garish lime green tank top granted a glimpse of artwork and scars that decorated Mollymauks body, fishnets and short shorts hugged the man’s legs, and boots that changed colour in the light helped to throw the ensemble together. 

He hurt to look at. 

“Darling, what’re you wearing?”    
  
“Uh,” Caleb started, the accusation clear in the tieflings voice, “My apologies Mollymauk, I don’t own much in the ways of clothing.” It wasn’t an excuse, there could be  _ no excuses _ , but it was a reason. 

“Oh, well we’re going shopping anyway but now it’s justified.” Molly shrugged, stepping towards him, a blur of colour and light. 

Beau followed close behind him, wearing what seemed to be her usual outfit of harem pants and sports bra, but with the addition of a light vest which, Caleb guessed, if tied in the correct way it would be more akin to a robe. 

The three set out, Molly slipping the bus driver a $10 note when Caleb was unable to produce a fare card to tap on with. And eventually, Molly and Caleb were standing outside a large old looking building watching after Beau as she was escorted inside by two buff looking librarians. 

“This is the Cobolt Soul, is it not?” Caleb asked, looking up at the impressive building. 

“Yeah, it is,” Molly affirmed, picking at his fingernails. 

“They are a well-known organisation, I have heard many things about the libraries they hold.” A once hidden memory came to him unbidden, he smiled softly “Once a peer and I had a running joke that we would sneak into one of these libraries, learn all their secrets.” He chuckled fondly at the thought, two pubescent wizards sneaking away in the night to go raid a library.    
  
“Well, you can always ask Beau.”    
  
Caleb brought his eyes toward Mollys, resting his gaze on the man’s eyebrow, “Pardon?”    
  
“I’m sure if you ask, Beau can get you in. They let outsiders read their shit you just gotta be vetted for.”    
  
Caleb felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach, oh to be able to have access to a library again. Of course, the reserve would hardly have much in the ways of magics in their shelves, but histories, and perhaps some old arcane theories that Ikithon had not taught him. Oh, he wanted to get into that library. 

He quickly reigned in his thoughts, it didn’t matter what he wanted. Really, who was he to have want's anyway? No. He would make himself useful, and perhaps should he prove himself to be so, he could seek entry to the library. He was growing lax, he needed to better control himself. There was no doubt that the patience of Mollymauk and the others would grow thin soon. 

He focused his attention on the tiefling in question, who was regarding him with a curious look. “Anyways, let’s get you a new wardrobe.” 

“Yes Mollymauk.”    
  
“Caleb, Molly is fine- really. It’s Molly to my friends and we’re friends now aren’t we?”    
  
Caleb stuttered out an affirmative. Was he really considered a friend? He’d done nothing to earn such a title. No, it must be another turn of phrase that Caleb was unaware of. 

Mollymauk- No,  _ Molly _ . He would need to get used to that. Molly led him down the street, seeming to be searching for a store in particular. They walked down side allies and backtracked a few times as Molly grumbled. 

It was interesting, watching the tiefling make his way through the occasional crowds. His outfit and demeanour were so ostentatious and loud that it screamed for the attention of onlookers. People had to actively work hard not to look at him. And they certainly didn’t notice Caleb trailing behind as they fixed their gazes on something that wasn’t Molly. 

It seemed he was a natural camouflage, so colourful and bright that he outshone those around them. Caleb tucked this knowledge into the recesses of his mind to examine later. 

Eventually, the two landed outside what seemed to Caleb a storefront that looked hardly any different from the others they passed, the sign on the door labelling it as a second-hand shop. 

Molly turned and grinned, with a tilt of his head he gave Caleb the silent directive to enter before him which Caleb obeyed. Observing the store it was filled with racks of clothing, with very little organisation by the looks of the disarray. 

Already moving towards one of the racks, Molly explained that this was his favourite “op-shop and/or thrift store, whatever you wanna call ‘em” as it often held a range of clothing that suited his tastes. Tastes which Caleb guessed boiled down to ‘loud and eccentric’. He continued to trail behind Molly, unsure of what to do or say. Was he expected to search for items of clothing also? Molly  _ had _ expressed a desire for Caleb to dress differently. 

But Molly seemed happy to chatter aimlessly as he browsed, discussing colours and patterns. Occasionally pulling an item out and scrunching his nose to show his distaste, which Caleb mirrored despite really not understanding the difference between that one article and the ones hanging from the teiflings arms to be tried on. But it pleased Mollymauk who chuckled and placed the garment back on the rack. 

He was easy enough to please, which felt good. Molly's desires and preferences were clear, he enjoyed Caleb engaging in conversation, even if it was a facial reaction or hum of acknowledgement. He had, to Caleb’s luck, expressed interest in his magic. And he also had a preference it seemed to dictate Caleb’s physical positions, whether it be to move in front of, follow behind, or sit beside the tiefling. Molly generally was the first to order him to sit during communal activity. 

“You seen anything you like?” Molly asked, pulling him out of his rumination. 

“Much of what you’ve selected will look very nice on you,” he answered obediently, feeling a warmth in his chest when the man in front of him preened a little at the compliment. 

“Thanks, but I meant for _ you _ .” Molly corrected, “And I don’t think this,” he lifted a bedazzled crop top from the top of his to-try-on pile, “is your style.” 

The warm sensation turned to ice as he realised his failure to understand Molly’s meaning. But he had already forgiven or set aside the failure for future correction. “Ah, my apologies Molly. I-” He looked around the store, eyes darting from rack to rack. He had never had such a choice as this, he’d never been granted a choice in clothing nor had he ever wanted one. As a child his mother picked his wardrobe, as a student, he had a school uniform, and under Ikithons tutelage he had his uniform of all black, the clothing given to him by his teacher and replaced when it was needed. 

The possibility of choice and the intense enormity of it was overwhelming. 

“I really have no preference as to what I wear,” Caleb spoke, fighting to keep his voice even. “If you would like, I believe I would benefit from ah, - fashion advice?” 

If the grin on Molly’s face was anything to go by, he had made the correct decision, grinning the man blessedly lifted his gaze from Caleb’s downcast one and observed the clothing around them. 

“I’d be delighted.” 

Two very long, horrible, arduous hours later Caleb and Molly exited the store. The process of adding to Caleb’s wardrobe had been one that he had truly not expected to involve so much energy. He thought he’d only need to try on a few shirts and pants. But Molly had seen fit to pile on outfit after outfit, ordering him to try the same pants with a different shirt or vice versa. He also insisted Caleb add layers which he had not minded, but that meant even more time spent browsing and trying on things. 

It was strange, needing to explain concepts to Molly that he was used to being common knowledge. The fact that should he add ‘pops of colour’ to the ensemble he would be limited in spellcraft when wearing such garments, should he wish to keep them that colour anyway. 

“Magic is affected by colour?” Molly had asked jewellery clinking as he tilted his head. 

“Ah, no it is more so magic that affects colour. Well, more so it affects an area around you.” He wrung his hands to keep them by his body instead of fluttering as they were begging to do, “Some spells will darken fabric in a radius, or bleach it. It is a side effect of the manipulation of arcane energy. There are many running theories as to how this phenomenon occurs- “ 

“-Is that why all the mages in TV shows wear mostly black or like, dark colours?” 

“Yes, its mostly a matter of, either you get clothing that is lighter in colour and it will darken over time, or you skip the transition period and stick to dark colours.” 

Molly let his eyes widen and lips purse as he nodded and fixed Caleb with an appraising look. He looked thoughtful and impressed before smirking and spreading his arms in acknowledgment. “Fair enough.” 

The clothing choices themselves weren’t something that Caleb had strong opinions on. None were of a fabric that itched or made him feel simply off. And everything fit. That’s what mattered. 

But the process itself had been exhausting and Caleb was happy to be out into the fresh air and dappled midday sunlight. 

As they stepped outside, Caleb noticed a coat hanging on the rack right outside the store’s door. It was well worn, large and from what he could see it was full of pockets. He found himself going to it, feeling the fabric of the sleeve with his thumb and forefinger. It had a soothing texture. He couldn’t ask for it, he knew that. But for a moment, he wished he could before he quickly pushed the feeling down into the shadows of his psyche where he didn’t need to look at it. 

He jumped as Molly came up behind him, “Sorry.” He wrenched his fingers away as if the coat had electrocuted him. 

“No need,” Molly hummed, reaching over his shoulder ( _ don’t move, don’t flinch, don’t show any weakness _ ) and taking the coat off its hanger. He stepped around Caleb and held the coat in front of him. “Yep, this definitely suits you.” He looked up at the sign on the rack. “And its a dollar. Bargain.” 

As Caleb stood, dumbfounded in the street, Molly waltzed inside the store once again and exited. And then there was a coat in his arms. 

He blinked in confusion. Molly had spent so much on him already, his debt was unpayable. He had no idea what the correct response was, he could not repute the tieflings actions, to do so would be blatant disrespect. But he had no idea what Molly saw in him, nor what he had done to earn it. He hadn’t. He hadn’t earned anything -  _ weak pathetic useless murderer failure coward inept disgu- _

“Caleb, are you alright?” a hand was on his shoulder, he flinched, he couldn’t help it. The sensation was too much. It was all too much. He couldn’t speak he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t. 

“Oh fuck, okay alright fuck fuck.” He was being moved now, hands on his shoulders dragging him out of the sun, into shadows. A cold wall against his back. He couldn’t run, couldn’t escape. To do was disobedience. 

He knew he was crying, he knew. He could feel the tears hot and burning in his eyes, running down his face, getting caught in his stubble. His hands fluttered on their own accord, moving and flapping by his chest.

Words were overlapping, one lilting melodic voice, “Caleb, Caleb I need you to breath for me. Caleb listen to me, please. Caleb-” The other cold, clipped, stern, “Don’t make a scene boy, don’t show weakness. You can not be a Volstrucker if you continue this nonsense.”

He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to, he didn’t, he truly didn’t. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. Please,  _ please _ no. 

Too bright, too loud, too much, it was all too much. 

A familiar stinging pain against his cheek. 

Breathe. 

Blink.

Everything was still too much. 

He needed to stop. 

Why couldn’t he stop?

The slap was a warning, a promise of further punishment and if he did not stop he would hurt. 

He didn’t want to hurt.

He was afraid. 

He choked on tears, forcing them down, down, down. 

Face blank, hide behind it. 

“Caleb where’s your cat? You can summon him can’t you?”    
  


Click. 

The cat was here. 

Please don’t hurt him, he’s only been back for so little and gone for so long. 

Fur against his face. 

Blink. 

The vibration of purring against his chest. 

He stood. (When had he sat down? He wasn’t sure.)    
  


“Caleb can I touch you?”    
  
He could do whatever he wanted to Caleb. 

It didn’t matter. 

“Okay okay, Caleb can you hear me?” 

Nod. 

“Can you speak?” 

Blink. 

A rough cat's tongue against his cheek. 

“Okay, can you nod if I can touch you please?”    
  
He can do whatever he wants. 

Nod.

Hands-on his upper arm.    
  


“Okay this is gonna suck but we need to get back home, you can keep your cat, we’re just gonna meet up with Beau and then get back on the bus. Can you manage that?”    
  
Nod. 

He would do what was required of him. 

“Alright.”    
  
Hands dragging him. Hands pulling him. Feet walking, stumbling along. Shuffle step trip, follow Mollymauk. Obey. Do what you’re told. 

They picked up Beau, her and Molly spoke in hushed voices. They got on the bus. Raised voices, someone is pointing at Frumpkin. A chromatic tiefling steps in front of him. “Therapy… cat… he needs… allowed… yes” words, vaguely registered in a world of white noise. Off the bus. Walk down the street. 

He’s in his bedroom, the one they gave him. Bags of clothing sit at the door. His cat is in his arms. He cries. His sobs silent in the stillness. He goes to sleep. 

The next day comes, and he knows he must apologise. 

When he clawed himself out from unconsciousness that morning he could feel the weight of his actions from the previous day sitting on his chest. He had no idea why he acted the way he did, there was no excuse. 

He feared the ire of the group, but he knew that were he to hide away the consequences of his failings would only be more severe. So he dragged his body up and dressed it, purposefully pulling on clothing Molly had selected. The shopping itself and getting Caleb to try on the outfits had pleased the tiefling so perhaps seeing him in them would also please him. 

He lingered, hesitating in the bedroom. Breath hitching when he heard footsteps pass his door, but no one opened it. 

He recounted spells and their components as he descended the stairs. The voices of the group rising up to meet him. The conversation didn’t fade as he entered, he didn’t expect it to. The group seemed as it usually did at breakfast time. Various boxes of cereal on the bench. Milk passing hands. He moved out of the way of Fjord who walked past with a plate of toast. It took a few moments of standing at attention to remember that initiative was expected during meal times.

With only a slight tremor to his hands, he poured himself a bowl of cornflakes. 

“Caleb,” Veth’s scratchy voice spoke from the table, “you know magic, can you  _ please  _ explain to Fjord the differences between alchemy and the arcane, I think it’ll take us both to get some sense into that thick fucking skull.” Her tone seemed playful- teasing. He sat beside her, knowing full well that the conversation was a joking one, but he did actually want to talk on this topic. 

“I was just saying that- “    
  


“Yeah and it was stupid. Caleb,” her eyes shone with mirth, “I think this man needs a Ted Talk, and it's in our best interests to give it to him.”    
  


She began with the basics of alchemy, and chemistry, the slight differences between the two. Mentioning some sort of “product” she used to create, she then briefly touched on the overlaps between her subject of interest and Caleb’s before motioning that Caleb should take over. Slowly, he obeyed. Following Veth’s order to inform Fjord. The half-orc while clearly not grasping every concept, did not order him to stop. If this was a sort of correction it was one that Caleb was unfamiliar with. Knowledge and learning are rewards more than anything else. 

He introduced the basic forms in which chemistry and arcana intermixed, gaining confidence as he went. Eventually gaining what little bravado he possessed when he went into the key differences between the two. It wasn’t until he began to finish his point that he reigned himself in, feeling foolish for having let his excitement on the subject cloud his better judgment and allow him to ramble without care. He always needs to put care into the arcane, even during simple discussions. 

He felt better though, his anxiety now only flittering in the background. He felt grounded, more himself. 

Eventually, breakfast ended and the people filed out. He asked Marion if he was needed for any task, he wasn’t. Too soon he found himself in the living room were Molly draped himself over Yasha and Jester, who were quietly discussing something to do with a harp and graffiti. 

“Molly,” Caleb spoke, hands gripped vice-like behind his back, “might I speak with you?” 

The tiefling looked up, a faint smile on his face. “Of course Caleb, just be a bit quiet, please. My head feels like my skull’s under construction.” He paused, then at Caleb's uncertain look added, “Massive headache- nothing to worry about. What’s up? Are you feeling better?”    
  
Caleb nodded, “Yes, I am thank you.” Breath in, breath out, don’t leave him waiting. “I’d like to apologise, for my behaviour yesterday. It was unacceptable.” 

Molly sighed in, anger? Frustration? He wasn’t sure. “Caleb, there’s no need to apologise. You had a meltdown, shit happens. It’s okay.”    
  
Caleb felt himself shift his weight between his feet, he wasn’t sure what to do. This wasn’t how apologies usually happened. Where was the reprimand? Correction? He had received a warning slap, but surely that wasn’t it? It couldn’t be? 

“Look if it makes you feel better, I forgive you.”    
  
It didn’t.    
  


Not even a little.

  
And so over the days following Caleb worked hard to make himself useful to Molly, offering aid with tasks, offering his company, offering demonstrations of magic. 

The tiefling seemed pleased, commenting on his progress as Caleb began to understand his preferences. He made himself put on an air of relaxation, spoke phrases in Zemnian on occasion, used casual language. He didn’t know why, but all these pleased Molly. But it wasn’t his place to question, he simply did as he was told. 

~

After the slight hiccup on their outing, Molly was proud to see Caleb working towards socialising more. He seemed more relaxed, more casual. It was great to see. 

The thing was, and he felt bad even thinking it, he wished the human would fuck off. Just for a little bit. But the man followed Molly like a lost puppy, he was pleased of course that Caleb felt safe with him. But he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. 

Veth had seemed to notice, when she wasn’t busy herself she often found some excuse to call Caleb away from Molly. A chore she needed help with or a magical theorem she wanted explaining. 

She appeared to have a growing interest in the topic of magic. Molly wasn’t sure if it was an excuse to get the wizard away from him or if it was genuine. 

Either way, those few hours of respite where Molly could spend time on his usual couch in the living room without Caleb sitting across from him, wringing his hands ever so anxiously, were a blessing. 

Occasionally Molly would get him to do some kind of task, something simple, but something that made him leave the room. Molly was used to needing to live in someone’s pocket, constantly on top of each other as they were at the circus and even here to a degree. But it was the attention that got to him. 

Caleb never objected either, no matter how menial the task he would simply nod, occasionally ask for clarification and then went on his way to make Molly a salad or mocktail or to fetch something from another room. 

He shouldn't take advantage, Caleb was so eager to please. He felt bad, he  _ really _ did. But not enough to stop himself. He simply just wasn’t used to these constant ministrations. 

He also wasn’t used to this kind of blind trust. 

When he had arrived at Marion’s, he had been in rough shape. He would never admit it at the time. But the lack of consistency that was the circus and the dreams of grave dirt left him with a broken bitch of a brain. 

Even so, the group trusted him as a person, trusted him to be his asshole self. What they didn’t trust him with were sharps. He was glad for it, he also didn’t trust himself with sharps on a good day, because he knew good days faded. He shouldn’t be trusted that way on a bad day. 

He was better now, less self-destructive, less angry. 

That’s why when he saw the scissors sitting on Caleb’s desk, he didn’t take them. Well, he didn’t straight away. He didn’t the first day he stepped into the wizard’s room, nor did he on the second day. But the third day... 

The third day was a bad day, his skin feeling all too tight and not his own. He had spent hours outside working on a Lyra routine, the hard curve of the hoop cutting into his hips, stomach, back, legs. His whole body felt bruised. But it wasn’t enough. On a day like today, were he at the circus he would have either gotten a new piercing, a new tattoo or maybe find a private corner for a few minutes and have an accident with his juggling knives. 

But he wasn’t at the circus. He couldn’t get a new tattoo or piercings and he had to actively avoid spitting globs of saliva onto the floor. The dirt wasn’t real, just his brain refusing to process the memory in a healthy way. 

“Hey can I borrow these?” He asked, and Caleb hadn’t even blinked. 

“Yes of course.”    
  
He hadn’t used them yet. He really didn’t intend to. He just liked having them there, knowing they were an option. They sat under his bed. 

But he wouldn’t use them. 

He took them to stop Caleb from doing something stupid. That was it, he’d seen the scars on the man’s arms. Too precise, too evenly spaced to be anything other than intentional. So Molly was helping the man. 

He would be lying to himself if he said that knowing he had them, knowing that he could use them didn’t make him feel better. Like an alcoholic knowing they had a stash in the laundry for a particularly shitty day. He knew it was bad, he really  _ really  _ did. But it was only precautionary. 

After all, he was better now, less self-destructive. 

~ 

Veth really needed to stop snooping. She knew it. She really did. 

But she couldn’t help it. 

Since the day she drowned, she found herself irritable and snappy when she found herself out of control of a situation, she used to see enemies everywhere, and if she could take, she would snoop. With the guidance of Vex, she felt the need to do either less and less. But it still didn't quell her curiosity. 

Besides! What was the harm in a sneaky little look around while Caleb was out with Molly? It was good, the boy hadn’t left the house in a few weeks and that kind of sitting around wasn’t good for a person. 

There really wasn’t much interesting, the boy had hardly any possessions of his own. 

But then she checked under the mattress, and her heart broke. 

Rules and punishments lined the paper, a list of regulations that no one had put into place. She could tell from the well-worn pages Caleb turned to them often, too. She knew he had been abused, it was on his file that she and Marion had reviewed. She could see it in nearly all his actions, the way he subtly tracked all movement in the room, how he sat facing the door if he could. 

But this?    
  


Oh, that poor boy. 

As she tucked the journal back under the bed and exited the room, she was already filing the mental adoption papers. A plan forming in her head, she would need to confront this subtly. He had a clear love of magic, she could gain his trust through that. 

Like a feral cat, she would teach him that he could trust her, he could trust people not to hurt him. This would be difficult, how do you get someone to spend time with you  _ and _ feel safe to say no when they take every word as an order? 

She wouldn’t tell the others, it wasn't her's to tell. Perhaps Vex during their session next week. 

But for now, she had to figure out how to get through to her boy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> And I feel like ppl are comment on this so imma say it now. Yes, Molly is a bit of an asshole in this chapter, its intentional. I think as a fandom we forget how much of an absolute bastard he was, I still love him and he means well in his intent, but he's an asshole and I love him all the more for it. Plz don't be angry at me for bringing that out in this chapter.
> 
> So yeah, please let me know what you think as feel free to interact with me on tumblr @ teiflingboi because I'm not lying when I say I feed of interaction with ya'll, it genuinely sustains me.


	6. Chapter 6: Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caleb continues to adapt to the groups behavioural preferences, has a breakthrough with the help of Veth and Vex. Molly has a very bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW's for this chapter 
> 
> \- Abuse as is customary with Caleb  
> \- Self hatred and deprication  
> \- Vaping  
> \- Blink and you miss is drug references  
> \- Cooking mentions  
> \- Potential non-con, nothing sexual and nothing intentional but still non-con  
> \- Thoughts of self harm  
> \- Just lots of angst
> 
> As always if I've missed something please let me know

A wizard is only as useful as they are prepared. 

In Caleb’s early years this was drilled into him, the phrase near burned into the backs of his eyelids. Teachers scolding him when he left a component in his dorm or when he had yet to do the required reading. It had been further elaborated on when he started his private tutelage with Ikithon. Some nights he was jolted awake and had to be ready to ward off his attacker, his hands dipping into the components he slept with under his pillow. Other times he was ordered to perform a task and he had not been ready to cast the required spell that day. He, Astrid and Eodwulf quickly learned the need to meet before sleeping each night in order to discuss the spells they would prepare the next day. For if one could not perform a task but the others could, that was your shame to bear- but if none could. Well, that was a failure, and failure is unacceptable. 

Caleb had not been prepared for the group home, that was evident. Shame burned in him when he considered his failings. He knew this was not a mission, there would be no missions like the ones he had trained for - a difficult reality to accept, but one he attempted reconciliation with nonetheless. There had been no files, no meetings, nothing. A new reality thrust upon him.

But with his past failures in mind, he found himself prideful in his successes. It had taken near a month but he now understood what the group expected of him, how best to please them, the hidden rules and preferences that no one would say aloud. He wished they had simply briefed him when he first arrived, but such wishes showed a weakness within him that he pushed down. What they did or did not brief him on was at their discretion; it was not his place to wish for any different. 

Under Ikithon, there was an expectation of formality and respectful stoicism. Being overemotional was unacceptable, showing weakness was unacceptable, anything other than polite obedience was unacceptable. 

Here though, he was required to have a casual air to his speech and movements. Approving smiles fell his way when he sat in a languid position or if he spoke a colloquial phrase. It was obvious the group approved of him not showing his weakness via the involuntary flinches and jolts when he was caught unawares; so he worked harder to school his body into a relaxed position, he remained hyper-aware of those around him, and he forced himself to stay still when he was touched or spoken to. 

He went to group therapy with everyone and spoke of false anxieties and methods of calming them. When asked about his past or thoughts on it he weaved answers that truly answered nothing but redirected attention elsewhere. 

One on one sessions with Vex were harder, she was hard to read and she offered no praise nor preference to his behaviours. She was also clever, very good at stirring him into conversations about his emotions or experiences. As the sessions went on, she continued to offer no warnings nor corrections either. No matter what he said or how he said it she would simply suggest something that would leave him spiralling in its wake. Slowly he told her more of his story, the true one. The one that involved training under a harsh teacher, the story that involved punishments, the story that involved stolen moments of joy when his teacher was out, the story that involved a boy who had been weak and made strong. 

She said phrases that did not compute with him - though he pretended he understood not wanting to upset her. Phrases like, “That’s not how people should be treated” and, “You were a child.” He knew logically that what he had suffered had been bad, but it had been for a purpose, because if it wasn’t then how could he keep going? Knowing his life and pain had been without reason. 

Somehow, surprisingly he left the sessions more secure in his own identity as Caleb. Which was something he found strange, as he’d never given much thought to it. He’d either been Bren or Caleb, a name was just a word to identify yourself. And yet with each session with Vex, he felt himself getting further from Bren… he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. He hoped so, but wasn’t sure. 

  
  


He spent more time learning the preferences of the group that differed from the rules or preferences he was used to. 

Marion was hard to understand, but she often worked in her office and rarely interacted directly with Caleb. Molly, Veth and Jester prefered when he slipped Zemnian into his lexicon amongst his common (He did not do so with Yasha given her previous warnings). Fjord’s tone of voice warmed slightly when Caleb placed a hand on the man’s shoulder or arm to get his attention. Beau, for a reason Caleb could not for the life of him understand, had a preference for him to talk back, or to slip an insulting swear into his addressing of her; which she often responded to with her own plethora of swears. Caduceus commented on how helpful he was when he began helping with cooking unprompted. 

The firbolg in question had also begun requesting that Caleb do odd tasks at uneven intervals. Caleb could not tell if he took pleasure in the tasks, or was testing Caleb. Either way, he obeyed every order he was given without question no matter how trivial or strange they seemed. 

“Caleb, can you open the window?” The man asked as he stirred noodles on the stove. “Please close it again,” he ordered not even 10 seconds later. 

The living room was empty and yet “Sit there instead if you don’t mind?” and once Caleb had settled back down into a seat, “You can move back if you’d like.” Caleb hated the phrase “if you’d like,” it made orders and tests difficult to differentiate, but he supposed that was the point. 

“Would you like me to return Caduceus?” 

“Only if you want to.”    
Warily Caleb moved back to his previous seat, he had learned the warning that was hidden in the words ‘only if you want to’ which actually meant yes I want you to. 

He continued with the small and yet strange tasks like this for three weeks. All the while Caleb could feel the attention of the Firbolg on him, examining him and sizing him up. He could only hope that whatever it was Caduceus saw when searching the confines of his face, that it pleased him. 

Caleb was quick to realize that Veth was a remarkable woman. He hadn’t ever thought ill of her of course, but as he found himself spending more time around her he found himself looking forward to the next time she called him away from Molly’s side. 

She came from a scientific background she had explained one day as he showed her the correct hand gestures that could allow one to send a message. In the past, she and her husband had worked in chemical creation, whatever that meant, and so while she understood fairly well how the world around her worked, magic was a topic she had yet to sink her teeth into. 

And she did sink her teeth into it, with Caleb’s aid. He felt a wash of accomplishment come over him as she cast her first spell, whispering into a wire from across the room. 

“Testing, 1, 2, 3, is this thing on? You can reply to this message.”    
  
He had beamed at her, face splitting into a rare but genuine smile, “You did it.” 

She had taken his hands in hers and done a skip and hop of a dance. He did little more than bob his knees with her but she did not seem to care. 

He had half expected her to stop asking about magic; the arcane arts were a difficult thing to practise and many after learning a spell or two would stop there, finding the power unwieldy and difficult to master. But she had been ready, her notebook out and asking about sigils the next afternoon. 

She had also developed an unspoken game with him. It was something neither addressed but a spark of knowing crossed between them when she initiated it. 

The woman carried a small bag of buttons she collected in her pockets a majority of the time. The first time she had spilled them-the array of buttons clattering to the floor in a cascade of colours and sounds-she asked for his help to pick them up. But instead of simply gathering and scooping them into the bag, she insisted that they sorted them first. 

She began putting them into piles, the pattern of sorting unclear at first but he quickly picked up on it, size and colour family. Then as all the buttons all had a place in the array she clicked her tongue and started moving them around again, a small smile on her face as she took buttons from the piles Caleb had worked on and changed their positions. He was uncertain at first but learned the new system, but then as quickly as he did she changed it once more. 

He had grown concerned at first, was he messing it up? Was he doing something wrong? But he was pulled out of his anxieties when she laughed and said, “Oh I think I’m gonna win, you’ll need to change it if you want to stand a chance.” He blinked, feeling his face scrunched in confusion, and then he found clarity in the moment. _Ah A game._

He began to match her rhythm, taking buttons from her piles, creating new systems for sorting and she scrambled to change her piles to match. Eventually, the game died down and the buttons found their way into the bag. But the parameters of the ruleless game were set, and he found himself smiling despite himself. 

The second time she dropped the bag, he had been in a state of distraction. His mind slipping away from him as he struggled to comprehend the world around his as material instead of the soft underwater edges that he was feeling. His skin felt rubbery and nothing around him was quite real. 

She had exclaimed softly and requested his aid. He had dropped to his knees, following the order blankly until his eyes found focus on her movements, sorting the buttons into piles. Recognition sparked in the recesses of his mind and he played the game, numbly and without care at first. But after about seven changes of the system, he found that his hands felt more firmly attached to his body. He actively changed the system after that realisation, and while he still hadn’t felt all present he felt more solid than he had before the game. 

She spilt her buttons a fair amount when she noticed his focus was drifting. It was nice, being around her. Knowing that if he drifted in a way that surely would warrant punishment with others, she would simply coax him back softly. He liked Veth. She felt, safe… known. 

One morning, an hour before the sun was to rise he awoke with the burnt taste of ash on his tongue. The scars on his arms, pockmarks of flesh not sealed together perfectly, itched something fierce. Taking one of the well-worn books from the shelf he put on his large, pocket filled coat and shuffled his way downstairs and outside. 

Quietly he shut the door behind him, the morning air crisp in his lungs. Breathing deep he smelled something akin to incense, and at the same time, he felt movement behind him in the shadows. Quickly and without thinking he summoned flame to his hand, holding it in front of him like a ward. In the flickering light, Veth’s face was lit in the warm glow. She looked surprised but not angry. 

Horrified he quickly quelled the flame. “Tut mir leid.” He apologised, tucking the offending hand under his armpit as if hiding it would somehow better his situation. “Uh- that is to say, I am very sorry Veth. I was not aware of your presence and-”    
  
“It’s fine.” She waved away his concessions with her freehand, in the other, she held some small cylindrical device. 

He shook his hands a little, trying to remove the stagnant energy that sat under his skin. He moved to take a seat next to Veth at the small table that sat by the door. Taking the book from its place within his coat, he motioned it towards the woman. “Is it alright if I...”    
  
She smiled at him, “Of course Caleb, you don't _ have _ to ask permission,” there was an airiness to her voice, a sigh within its cadence. He worried at the hem of his sleeve, rubbing it between forefinger and thumb, the sensation a comforting one. 

He raked his eyes over the inked letterings of the book. This was his third time reading the novel since arriving, the story as familiar and known to him as the loose threads in the corner of one of his bedsheets, being the stickler for detail that he was. Even as his mind played out the tale held within the paper pages he kept a focus on Veth. 

The device she held was one for smoking, however, the stench he associated with cigarettes was absent. Instead of that acrid and repulsive miasma that clung to the walls of his nose and throat, the scent was fragrant, sweet almost - not quite the same as his incense but close enough to give a sense of familiarity. 

She did not look at him, she seemed content to look up at the faint remains of stars that lingered in the lightening sky as she took a drag from the device and then slowly released it, the vapour curling from her mouth in a swirl of gas before dispersing into the morning air. 

After 26 minutes of attempting and failing to read, he closed the book, placing it back into his large pocket. Eyes turning skywards he watched the constellations disappear with her, the only movements for some time between them were the occasional metal to lips and swirl of smoke on her part, and the clockwise motions of his fingers against the fabric. 

“You remind me of my son,” she spoke into the quiet, still looking upwards, “I know that that may seem condescending but it’s meant to be a compliment.” There was a rustling of paper, and a small photograph was placed on the table in front of him. 

It had the well-worn creases that come from opening and folding paper on a regular basis, in the picture were three people, one clearly Veth, slightly younger than she was now her face free of all scaring. A man’s face was beside her own, bushy brown hair grew down to frame his face with sideburns, glasses sitting haphazardly at the end of his noes. A young boy, maybe five or so sat on her lap, smiling large as he looked at the camera. 

“Yeza, my husband, and Luc, my son. Luc, is such a smart boy, he’s always asking why and how and what. Big heart too, he’d do anything for his friends.” Her voice was soft, as if she spoke too loud something might break, “I can’t see them, not yet. The group that Yeza and I worked for, they still have people out there, and they know what we did- how we crossed them. This-” she waved a hand across her face, “- this makes me too recognisable, easily identifiable, so I have to stay away to keep my boys safe.” 

She took another drag, and tilted her head to look at Caleb, “He’s a good boy, and so are you.” Warmth found its way into his chest at the praise. “But...” she paused and he felt a weight in his gut, what had he done wrong? “You can say no to things. You’d still be good, in fact, you’d be even better if you could say no to things you don’t want to do or say. Boundaries are good.” 

She took the photo from its place on the table. Ever so carefully, she folded it as if it were her most prized possession and tucked it under her shirt, hiding it away close to her heart. Caleb wasn’t sure what to say or think, was she ordering him to object to the others? That didn’t seem right. He was aware, however, that she had just shared a very carefully guarded piece of herself, exposing the raw and sensitive nerve endings that lead to her heart. She trusted Caleb with this exposure. 

He wanted to show that he understood what she had just done, that he also knew what it was like to be marked by another, to have memories of pain etched on his skin. 

“I, uh,” he stumbled with his words slightly before regaining his composure, “I also have marks that others have left on me.” He scratched at his forearms as he said it, feeling the phantom hum of residuum displacing the arcane thanergy in his veins. She looked at him now, head tilted and eyes neither examining nor searching, just watching. “So while we are different, you and I, I can understand. That uh, that feeling.” 

He ducked his head, eyes fixing their gaze downwards, looking at his hands as he wore away the hem of his coat. 

“Thank you, Caleb.” He could hear the faint traces of a smile in her voice. 

The sun was beginning to rise now, the sky like a purple bruise with the faintest touches of orange in the horizon that hid behind the surrounding buildings. The two sat in silence, the ordeal that is being known to another sitting heavy yet comfortably in the air between them. 

For the rest of that day, he ran what Veth had told him through his mind. Examining every syllable, the inflection of her voice. Anything that would help him better understand what she had meant. 

_ “You can say no to things.” _

Never in his life could he recall that being truly allowed. Of course when on missions he had been allowed to lie, allowed to deceive. Phrases like, “I’m afraid I don’t know,” or “Perhaps we could try this instead” had passed his lips during his recognisance work. But never no. No would upset people, and upset people did not trust you. 

Obviously the option wasn’t even a possibility when it came to his superiors, no matter what was asked of him he obeyed without question. To deny the orders of his superiors was without a doubt one of the worst offences he could commit. 

The few times he would deny a superior was to answer a negative in a question, or during a test. A test to see if he would break a different known rule, examining his loyalties and intelligence. Was this such a test? 

And yet. 

_ “Boundaries are good.” _

He knew boundaries well enough. Boundaries that dictated the longevity or power of a spell. Boundaries that dictated what spaces you could be in. Boundaries that dictated what could be said. Boundaries were something he followed, never something he created. 

Could he, in fact, deny something ordered now? Life was so different here, different rules and different preferences. Perhaps this was another difference. No.  _ No thank you _ . I don’t think I will. Stop. Denial. Boundaries. 

He wasn’t sure, how he could test this without warranting punishment. Veth, he was near certain, would not purposefully attempt to have him break a rule. But perhaps she meant he could say no to her, perhaps the others would not be so lenient. 

Then again he saw them say no to each other all the time. But he was different, Caleb wasn’t like them. He was on the outskirts looking into this group, he was not their peer. He was lesser…  _ wasn’t he _ ? 

He lay down to rest that night, Frumpkin lying on his chest, the cat’s purrs vibrating through his body, and he considered his options. Who could he approach to ask about this issue without a guaranteed punishment? 

“How has your week been Caleb?” Vex asked as he settled himself in the soft chair across from her. 

“It has been well, thank you for asking,” he responded automatically, “and yourself?” 

She returned the socially acceptable response of, “Good, thank you.” And then asked the question that Caleb had spent much of the morning practising his answer to. “Is there anything you’d like to address in today’s session?”    
  
By now she was surely used to his response of “There is nothing I can think of specifically.” To which she would then reply to broach a topic or restate something they touched on the week previous. But today, his own heartbeat in his throat, he answered differently. 

“There is, if that is alright?”    
  
“Of course Caleb, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t. What would you like to talk about?”    
  
His mouth felt dry, his tongue heavy behind his teeth, but he stammered the question out as Vex waited ever so patiently. 

“I-I had a conversation,” pause, breathe, “with Veth, she uh, she said something that I am unsure about.” He looked up at Vex trying to gauge a response, she was not upset, her face was open, nodding, encouraging him to continue. He watched the slow rise and fall of her shoulders. He focused his eyes there- unable to meet her face. The slow rhythm of her breathing helped him calm his own. 

“She said, well, she encouraged me to say no, to things that is. It is- uh- she insisted that it would be good behaviour for me to exhibit. But this, this makes little sense to me. Previously such a thing would be against all rules. I do not wish to upset her, but the thought of this, it is a worrisome thought for me.”    
  
The words had all but fallen from his lips and he schooled himself into quietude, it would not do from him to ramble. 

Vex looked at him for a moment, eyes thoughtful. 

“Thank you for sharing this with me Caleb, I know that must have been quite difficult to express.” She paused, let her breath exhale, and then continued, “Caleb, there is no incorrect answer here, I just would like to better understand, but are you asking me if Veth is correct?”    
  
He nodded, not trusting his voice. 

“Saying no, is a very healthy thing to do. I understand that in the past it may have been an unsafe thing to do. But you  _ are _ safe now, no one here will hurt you and saying no is a perfectly normal and okay thing for you to do.” 

He frowned, teeth worrying at the inside of his cheek. “You say this, but it, it feels wrong. It feels disobedient to consider the idea.”    
  
“Would you consider practising saying no with me?” she asked, eyes never leaving him as she scribbled something in that notebook of hers. 

He took a moment, considering it. If he said no, well that in and of itself would be a practice of the usage. Perhaps that was what she wanted, for if he said yes to the exercise he was agreeing, and that was in fact not doing the exercise. He went for a safer option instead of a binary answer. 

“If you believe it would help I am not opposed.” an obedient answer, a pleasing one.    
  
Head tilting to the other side she considered for a moment, “Alright, I’m going to ask you to do things and I’d like you to say no to me. I promise that you are safe and if you would like to stop we can.”    
  
He nodded, fingers rubbing together. He wanted to summon Frumpkin but he had heard tales of dogs and cats and did not want to test summoning his familiar with Trinket in the room, no matter how well the dog was trained. 

“Caleb, can you lick your elbow for me please?” 

The question was ridiculous and left Caleb blinking, he obviously couldn’t do this. To ask was ludicrous. “I cannot physically do that.”    
  


“So what your saying is?” She pushed, stressing the last word and he understood.  _ Huh, an interesting approach.  _

“N-” he felt something inside him seize, fighting to not say it, but he pushed through the mental barrier. “No, no Vex I will not lick my elbow.” 

Nothing happened, she did not yell or look at him sternly, he was okay. He didn’t try to hide his astonishment as he looked at her. 

“How do you feel?”    
  
“ _ Gut,”  _ he searched inward, there was some anxiety but there never wasn’t. But he ultimately felt okay. “Can we do something more practical?”    
  
Her lips curved in a small smile, “Open the window for me, darling.”

He felt himself pause, he could open the window, it was not hard nor would it cause him any issue. But he understood that despite him not minding the task, he needed to deny it. 

“I, uh.” he found himself lacking air in his lungs, he breathed, matching the rise and fall of Vex’s lungs before answering “N-No. No I uuh, I do not, I do not wish to.”    
  
Vex very rarely offered praise or opinion. So it was strangely gratifying when she told him that she was proud and thanked him again for sharing this with her. The session continued on the topic of denying others. They worked through his small barriers, going through what the worst effect of his saying no could be and why it was unlikely. Small things he could do to practise by himself. 

They even at one point went through theoretical instances, in which she would present him with the scenario - perhaps Jester is asking him to graffiti a library, or Caduceus has placed a plate of food he is disgusted by in front of him and wants him to eat it. No, no thank you. It was difficult, and exhausting to consider that he could in fact say no, to deny the others of what they wanted from him. 

But there was something liberating in the idea. A weight that he did not know he was carrying lifted somewhat. 

He left the session tired, exhausted really. But hopeful. Hopeful that he might make Veth smile with his developing boundaries. He had laid on the floor of his bedroom for the rest of the afternoon. Playing with Frumpkin and a piece of ribbon. Eventually, as was the routine every night, he heard the sound of Caduceus beginning to prepare dinner and so he made his way downstairs and offered his aid. 

As always the Firbolg accepted the offer with an easy smile. He was asked to cook the meat components of the stirfry the man had planned, strips of marinated beef to be grilled in the frying pan. Caleb hated the smell of cooking meat, flesh browning and roasting under the heat. He gathered his courage, the word  _ no _ just sitting behind his lips, but it did not escape them. 

Logically he knew that he could. He could see in his mind's eye that the firbolg would simply hum in acknowledgment and give him another task. Logically he was aware of this. He truly was. But a voice screamed in the back of his mind that he couldn’t deny the man. Couldn’t risk it. 

He knew he could say no. But he feared it. With Vex it had been different; she had known he was going to say no, expected it and in a way saying no was a form of obedience within the parameters of the exercise. But this, this was the transition between theorem and practical, hypothesis and conclusion. Unknown and formidable. 

He cooked the meat. 

He would perhaps start smaller, start with smaller disobediences that were not so frightening. Defiances that his body did not expect the absolute worst of punishments for. Work his way up. That felt safer. 

He started by slowly extracting himself from Mollymauk. He still owed the man a great debt, but unless asked to do something or spend time with the man he wouldn’t. Caleb made an effort to put space between him and the tiefling. It wasn’t that he didn’t wish to spend time with him, in fact, he wanted that very much. But it was disobedience to leave someone you served side without reasoning. This was a small disobedience, one he could do without feeling like curling into a ball and begging forgiveness. And he was not reprimanded for it. 

He made an effort to spend more time with the other people of the group, doing small things that in the past he would have been beaten for and yet was left unscathed now. 

He walked with Jester and Veth to a nearby park where the two used spray paint to decorate the side of the public bathroom. “Hey, Caleb you should stand over there to look out for us.” Jester had smiled, pointing to a vantage point a ways away.

But examining the area, he could tell that it would not be the most advantageous spot. “If I stand” he pointed to an area closer, and slightly more to the left “there, I will be able to see oncoming people more clearly, so I will go there instead.” In the past to speak like this to a superior would mean a sharp slap across the face, or perhaps even a suggestion or command spell taking over his senses leaving him helpless to the whims of others. But here there as no such punishment.    
  
“Oh that’s pretty smart~ “ her voice had a musical tone to it, “good idea.” 

  
Beau had asked him to use magic against her, explaining that it was for training reasons. The thought of turning his dangerous spells against her made the animal in his chest claw and scream in panic. “I would prefer not to if that is alright. If I injure you I would find it upsetting.” To suggested one was more powerful than a superior and had caused Eodwolf to be locked in the basement for 3 days, screaming and begging to be allowed out. But here the woman had made a face but shrugged, admitting that it probably wasn’t a great idea. 

His most daring denial had been when Fjord asked him to retrieve a condiment from the fridge, Caleb had been sitting at the table, eating from a bowl of strawberries while Fjord made himself a sandwich. 

“You are closer to the fridge, would it not be easier for you to retrieve it yourself?” 

  
The half-orc had blinked at him, Caleb felt himself grow tense despite his purposeful posture to avoid such occurrences as was the group's preference. This was a direct denial of an order, unthinkable and the incurred punishment near unbearable. 

But the man then broke into a slightly embarrassed smile. 

  
“Sorry Caleb, you're right” and he retrieved his own sauce. 

These small rare rebellions had been terrifying, but enlightening. He still found himself carrying out direct orders a majority of the time, but in these small brave moments, he felt himself smile inwardly. No punishments occurred, he of course still had rules to follow, that was a simple fact of life. 

But he could, in his own way, say no. And that was very exciting. 

~~   
  


Mollymauk wanted very much to give himself a light beating. Not in a bad brain day kind of way either, but instead in a ‘why are you like this?!’ fashion. 

At first, when he noticed Caleb's withdrawal from him he had been relieved. The human actively sought to spend more time with the others, pestering Molly and asking if he needed anything less and less. The constant presence lingering around him like a bad smell dissipating. 

For a time he revelled in the wizard's absenteeism. Even when in the same room, Caleb’s focus was not entirely on him, he talked with the others, he left without asking Molly if it was alright. In other words, Caleb fucked off and it was  _ great. _

However, Molly’s brain being the absolute bastard that it was, decided very much without his permission that it did, in fact, want the attention after all. 

He found himself missing Caleb's presence after not too long, missing the way the man looked at him, the careful assessment of someone who understood to a certain extent the ways in which the fabric of reality intertwined. He missed the soft brush of fingers when he was handed whatever thing he had requested from the man. He sort of missed the requesting, now he had to get up and get his own damned glass of water. 

Perhaps that's what Caleb wanted, perhaps he’d been aware of Molly’s annoyance and decided to make himself scarce which of course he knew would lead Molly to miss him. This was utter bullshit Molly knew, but it was a fun thought- the idea of Caleb scheming, a mastermind manipulator as if that man could hurt a fly. 

No this was Molly's fault entirely. He was an attention whore, and though he had no less attention from his friends he now wanted Caleb's attention back on him damn it!

Perhaps it was this lack of attention that caused his mind to focus on Caleb more and more. Molly was always aware that should any of his friends request a tumble in the sheets, or even a simple spit swapping session, he would happily oblige - with perhaps the exception of Beau and Yasha because  _ ew _ . Molly’s first moment of self-awareness, true understanding of who he was as a person, was that he was a creature of want. He wanted things and he wanted people.

He was fine not getting what he wanted, simply satisfied to admire his fascinations, but given the chance, he would receive with gusto. 

There were very few times that this background desire came to the foreground. He was happy to be with his friends as they were and if they wanted more they just need to ask. But Caleb. He found himself wanting in a way he’d rarely experienced. 

He hadn’t noticed it at first. 

He only realised that his focus had been drifting, finding himself staring at golden brown freckles that sat across the table during breakfast. He found himself imagining his hands running through soft ginger hair. When he closed his eyes, suspended above the ground and contorting his body, the press of the Lyra digging into his waist did little to distract him from the blue eyes that stared back at him from within the darkness. 

He couldn't get Caleb's lips from his mind either. He found himself drawn to those lips more often than not. When the wizard wasn’t looking he would stare, examining the bow and curve of them. Slightly chapped. Occasionally Caleb would chew his bottom lip in thought as he considered his words, it was endearing. 

Molly assumed these feelings would fade as they usually did, retracting into the recesses of his imagination to only come out when Jester wore a particularly cute or tight dress, or when Fjord worked out shirtless in the yard, the quiet moments he spent with ‘Duces who would hum something in that deep baritone that reverberated through Molly's body. 

He assumed that he would simply lust over this man for maybe a week, maybe even two and would then go back to his normal rhythm. But he didn’t, instead, he felt the yearning burn brighter within him. 

He’d never felt like this before. Literally never in his whole 2 years of life. Normally new was exciting, new was fun, new was interesting and expected. This new sucked ass. 

“Yasha I think I’m sick.” He complained one night as he flopped onto her bed face first, the woman in question simply closed the door behind him and sat beside him. 

“So you thought you would get your germs all over my bed? How considerate.”    
  
“Not that kind of sick!” he growled, pushing his face into her pillow. He whined and complained and explained his newfound symptoms. The flutter in his stomach when Caleb smiled at him, the ever-present burning in his chest, the dizzying distraction that was the humans' lips. 

Yasha had laughed at him, great belly laughs that the whole house probably heard. “You have a crush.”    
  


“What? No. I would know if I had a crush.” 

“Have you ever had one before?”    
  
“I don't think so but I-“    
  
“It sounds like one to me” she shrugged, petting him somewhat condescending on the head, “You will survive.” 

He had no idea what to do with that information. What was he meant to do with a  _ crush _ ? It was ridiculous. Yet he continued to want and yearn and imagine kisses against chapped lips. 

Caleb, he observed, continued to improve: he flinched less, he smiled more, he even cursed at Beau a few times. Perhaps it would be okay to pursue him? Molly had no idea how one would even do that, he had never needed to woo someone. You had sex or you didn’t. It had always been that simple. 

He considered his options but after some deliberation decided there was no point in trying to be more than he was. To do more than he knew. He was Mollymauk Tealeaf take it or leave it. 

That's how he found himself one late morning, sitting on the same couch as Caleb, both watching some crime drama show. Caleb was pulling a face as the divination mage worked, doing a spell that would allow him to see the crime scene at the time of the murder. 

“Those sigils are not even in the divination school, that is transfiguration and...” he paused, tilting his head, “ja, that is a glyph for warding an area from scrying- that certainly wouldn’t help. The rest is all just filigree. Did they not consult a divination expert on this or did they just google it and call it a day?” Molly watched as his mouth curved into a smirk, the kind of smirk you form when you feel superior. On many people that kind of expression is one that Molly loathed, it was arrogant. But on Caleb the smirk was adorable, with a hint of authority, the kind one got from being an actual expert in their field. 

Caleb snorted as the mage on the screen began to chant, “That is gibberish,” he leaned back scoffing. He turned to look at Molly, mirth in his eyes “I now understand why you enjoy seeing my magic, this-” he gestured at the screen, “my nose is full of it.” 

“Your noes is what?” Molly asked, leaning in slightly closer to the human. 

“Ah apologies, I think perhaps this is a Zemni phrase. It is meaning something close to, uh,” he paused, clever eyes moving around the room as he thought, “enough of this bullshit.” 

Molly hummed, nodding in acknowledgment, “Well I’ve always suspected that mages on TV were full of shit.”    
  
Caleb bobbed his head up and down, eyes moving around before settling on Molly's face, not quite making eye contact but Caleb very rarely did that so it was no surprise. Molly found himself staring at him, overcome with care for this man in front of him, that was the best word to describe it, he  _ cared _ . He cared so much it ached and he felt like all this goddamn emotion was going to make him burst with the enormity in which he felt it and it _ sucked.  _

It was at this moment that little asshole that was Molly's brain screamed at him to kiss him, to make a move, to do something in the peace that settled between the two. 

Maybe if he had been smarter, more insightful he wouldn’t have. Maybe if he worked on his impulse control like how everyone encouraged he wouldn't have. But he did. 

“Tell me to stop if this isn’t okay” he whispered just loud enough so he knew the man would hear and then slowly, carefully leaned in. 

With his eyes closed, he brushed Caleb's lips with his own, barely a whisper of a touch, before pulling a breath’s distance away. Caleb didn’t say to stop, didn’t say no. So keeping his eyes closed he pressed his lips against him again, slightly firmer this time. The human was still, that should have been his first red flag but it wasn’t. Instead, he interpreted it as nerves and kissed him a third time. This time Caleb moved, mirroring Molly's movements with the clunky uncertainty of a first kiss. 

Testing the waters Molly pressed further, and Caleb yielded, allowing Molly to open his mouth with his own, carefully as if touching something precious - which he was, Molly brushed his hands up Caleb's arms and the human did the same. 

The kiss lasted little more than a minute but Molly's head was spinning with the joy of it all, he pulled back slightly, eyes opening to see the flushed face of Caleb staring at him, eyes wide. When the sound of a throat clearing resonated from the doorway. 

Caleb flinched, hard, jumping away from Molly as if he had electrocuted him. Caduceus stood at the door, a worried frown on his face, beside him Beau stood with her arms crossed over her chest looking as if she might throw up.

“Sorry,” Molly laughed trying to diffuse the tension.

“Molly,“ Caduceus spoke slowly and thoughtfully, “I think that maybe that's not a great idea.” 

“I’m with Cad’ on this one,” Beau said, face still scrunched as she looked at Molly, “I mean I’m happy for you but I really don't wanna see you making out on the family couch.”    
  
“Won't do that in public spaces again,” he paused, winking at Beau “probably.”    
  
Caduceus was looking between him and Caleb, less with the concern one might have when watching two friends sucking face unexpectedly, and more so with the growing realisation and horror of someone witnessing a car crash in slow motion. 

Molly sighed, pressing his head against Caleb's shoulder, the human in question was still sitting ramrod straight like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I know we all live together, this can get messy I know but I’d like you to know - “    
  
“That's not it Molly, “ Caduceus cut him off, stepping further into the room. “I think there may be an issue with consent.” 

Molly was hurt, truly and deeply that Caduceus could think such a thing of him, that he would take advantage of someone. He wouldn’t even dream of it. Caleb hadn’t said no, hadn’t moved away, he’d kissed back! 

“Caduceus I promise you,” he struggled to keep the hurt and indignity out of his voice, “I would never do anything if he did not want it.”    
  
“That's the thing,“ Caduceus said, “I don't think he would say no, or even question anything you did.” he looked from Molly to Caleb, ”Sorry to speak of you as if you weren't here, very rude of me. However, Caleb, you’ve gotten better at redirecting when you don't want something but I don't think you're at the point of proper consent.”    
  
This was getting ridiculous, warm butterflies turned to scalding anger in Molly's stomach. What was Caduceus even implying? In the beginning, sure Caleb was pliant and treated them all like they’d beat him if he didn’t do what they said, but he had improved so much. 

Beau scoffed, “So what are you saying exactly?” she looked disbelievingly back and forth between Caleb and Cad’ “He’s just gonna do whatever we say? Caleb stand up and go the centre of the room.” She then pulled a face, rolling her eyes, “That's an order” her voice dripped with sarcasm at the last three words as she mocked the whole situation.    
  
Caduceus opened his mouth and raised his hand as if to object before he seemed to think better of it. Molly was about to shoot back his next argument to the firbolg when the weight next to him on the couch shifted and disappeared. Turning his attention to his side instead, Molly stared in horror and confusion as, without question or objection, Caleb got up from his side and moved to where Beau indicated. 

Breathless, the three onlookers stared at Caleb as he stood, his hands folded neatly behind his back, seemingly unaware or indifferent to the vacuum of tension his surroundings had become. Beau’s crossed arms slackened as her stance became serious, disturbed and inquisitive. The woman gaped, the expression on her face not quite understanding, although close to it perhaps. “Kneel” her voice was a but a whisper of the mock authority she had before, and her tone was one of bewilderment. Caleb knelt. 

Molly tore his eyes away from Caleb and set them on Beau instead, fighting to keep the once scalding anger, now white-hot rage out of his voice, “What are you doing?”    
  
Her face was pale, eyes full of guilt and perturbation, she looked towards Caduceus who looked a mix of sorrowful, disappointed and resigned. “Well, I don't think that was the best thing to do right now, but we can worry about that later.”    


  
Molly shook his head, he couldn't believe it, didn’t want to,. But the answer was in front of him, kneeling before them with his hands in his lap and his eyes to the floor. Revolution bubbled up in Molly’s insides before refusal and rejection took hold once again. This wasn’t the truth, in no world was the truth so harrowing, loathsome, nauseating. Yet as sickening as it was, the truth stared back at Molly. It stared in the form of remembered tasks he himself had given the man, the form of Caleb’s constant subservience, the form of his current, slightly trembling figure. But then if this was the truth then what he had done, what he would have continued to do. No it couldn’t be. He banished the thought.    
  
“I told him to tell me to stop if he wasn’t okay with it. That's technically an order, right? So he would’ve told me...” He turned and looked at Caleb who still knelt, eyes downcast but staring as if into a great distance, “wouldn’t you?” 

The human said nothing, stagnant. Molly stood, teeth bared at Caduceus “Please tell me he would've, Cad’. Cad’, he wouldn’t just let me hurt him. He- I-”    
  
Softly, very softly, Caleb spoke His accent was thicker than normal, and the usual jolting and stammering rhythm of his voice was absent. “It does not matter what I am comfortable with, it is of little consequence.” 

Repugnant revulsion took the place of any and all positive emotion he felt, the heat in his stomach doused suddenly with an icy chill. Funny, not a moment ago Molly felt like the most blessed man alive, pressing his lips against a man he cared so deeply for, when in fact he was violating that very man instead. Hurting him. Abusing him?

He heard from behind him Beau curse under her breath. 

He tore out of the room, running past everyone, pounding up the stairs even as he heard muffled voices behind him. “Up you get now, I’m sorry Caleb, this isn’t fair to you, none of this is.”    
  
He ran, and locked his bedroom door behind him. He was filled with anger and hurt and disgust and all of these feelings were aimed like daggers at himself. How had he not seen it before? How could he be so blind? Caleb was always so pliant, so giving, so caring. This whole time he was what? Following the orders, commands and biddings of the others? Doing whatever he could to please everyone no matter what it was? 

He felt like crying but the tears didn’t come. He found that lethargy had taken root in him. Emotions, hot and churning roiled inside him but he could barely bring himself to move. His body was a stationary box of steel, and what was inside could not escape no matter how much it screamed and clawed and fought. 

Shaking hands found the plastic handle of the scissors he had stashed so long ago. He pulled his shirt off, tearing it only slightly on horns, ready to cut lines of anger and horror into his chest. He needed to hurt, to do something, to destroy something, may as well be himself right? No physical pain could be greater than the pain his own hatred wrought inside him. 

He stared at the shining edge of the blades, a simple solution to a complicated problem. Hurt himself because he had hurt another. 

But scars and self-inflicted pain had yet to be a punishment, instead, they had made his body his own. This simple solution would not fix much, It was like using a band-aid for a broken limb. 

He felt the coolness of the blade, pressed inert against his skin, unmoving, static and gentle. 

A minute passed. 

Then another. 

He just stared. 

Searching for something that he didn’t see nor feel, he wasn't even sure what he was looking for. 

A knock on the door. 

He slid the scissors back under the bed and remained where he was sitting on the floor.  _ Coward. No, it was better like this, healthier. _ It felt hard to feel good about the decision.    
  
“Come in” he called out, voice croaking although he hadn’t so much as shed a tear. Jester walked in, tail swishing in agitation. She knew, how much she knew he did not know, but she knew. 

“Bad day?” She asked, sitting across from him, legs folded. 

“Nah,” he breathed, “only a disastrous... what? Hour or so.”   
  
“Anything I can do to make it better?” Always trying to fix things. 

“Nope.”    
  
There was a quiet moment. The only sound the thump and drag of her tail against the carpet. “Wanna go have a tantrum?” 

A mirthless smile crossed his face, “Sure, lets go commit some petty crimes, why not?”    
  
She grinned. “I’ll grab my paints. Meet you downstairs?”    
  
He nodded and watched as she disappeared down the hallway. He dragged his too heavy body to standing and changed into sturdy clothes as opposed to his comfy casual-round-the-house look. 

He felt almost numb, he wasn’t dissociating, he was just overcome with big emotions he’d never really felt. This was probably, quite literally one of the worst things to happen to him since he crawled out of his grave. It was almost similar to the first time he cut himself, slicing an apple he slipped and cut open his finger. He had been about a month old at the time and oh how he had howled, you would have thought his finger had been chopped up, but that was the worst physical pain he had ever experienced. He’d never bled before and it had been terrifying. 

Well, this experience was much like that in regards to never doing this before, he’d never kissed someone he cared for so deeply before. And he’d never hurt someone quite as much. 

Jester and he quickly made their way to the abandoned house they designated and would go to for a good ol’ tantrum. The house was only a 15 or so minute walk from Marion’s, and was hidden away enough. It was in a field that had yet to be developed, and you could be loud because there was little risk you’d be heard. 

They had discovered it by chance, the two had been exploring the hidden areas of the neighbourhood, and it turns out if you simply ducked under a few fences and didn’t mind walking in some long grass you‘d come across an old structure, full of empty rooms and breakable things. 

The only room that was off-limits in terms of breaking shit was one of what was assumed to be a bedroom, the walls were all well kept and covered in layers of paint. Jester came here when she felt like technically committing a crime but without the risk of getting caught. Beautiful murals decorated the room on all four walls and ceiling. Empty spray paint cans littered the floor. 

Molly didn’t care much for graffiti, he liked this place for 2 reasons. The first being Instagram photos, because boy was this place an aesthetic. The second was the fact he could break shit, and scream and yell and cry and not have to worry about replacing whatever he broke. 

Once they had entered Jester skipped off and closed the paint room door to give him some privacy. She was considerate that way, many saw her as an immature fool, but she was wise and knew when to let people be. Molly loved her for that. 

He took a moment, to wander around the old home. It was a place that felt nostalgic, did people live here once? People who lived and loved and experienced joy and heartbreak in this house that was now left to be demolished to make way for new housing one day. There was a new tag in the hallway, that happened sometime, new things were broken and new art was made in their place. 

A house once lived in, then made empty, now something new and different. 

The intense feelings of hurt that he had put on a simmer now boiled at full force in his chest. Hurt, hurt for Caleb, hurt for what he himself did, hurt and pain and anger and anguish and disgust. 

Molly let himself feel and be the embodiment of an emotional wreck for as long as he needed. Emotions are meant to be felt and he certainly felt them. Felt them at the full force of someone who woke up one day with nothing at all, no reference for how to act or feel, no reference as to what life was meant to be, all there was was him, the hole he clawed out of and the light of the moon. 

His foot went through a section of wall and he screamed in frustration. 

He let himself be  _ angry, _ angry at himself, angry at whoever hurt Caleb in the first place, angry that a world existed where shit like this could happen.

He took a stick and pushed it through the already shattering glass, the discord of shattering glass splintering under his attack was satisfying. 

Memories raised within him unbidden, every time he sent Caleb on some errand, every time he asked Caleb to spend time with him, every interaction they had now had the sickly filter over it with the knowledge that Caleb only did any of it because he wouldn’t say no. 

He punched at a section of rotting drywall. The plaster caving in at the blow, his knuckles felt bruised and they stung as he retracted them. 

Once, Jester had joked that he was technically two years old, so his occasional meltdowns were to be expected. He had laughed then, surrounded by broken plates and bowls that he had thrown around and stomped to pieces. He had felt better then, feeling through his emotions in a reveller’s violence. 

He didn’t think he would feel better now. No, he knew he wouldn’t. This wasn’t an issue that only involved him and his brain that had decided to wipe itself clean and then get angry with him for that action. No this was an issue caused due to him and his stupid and selfish actions. No amount of tantrum would fix anything. 

Either way, he raged. And cried, and screamed. And eventually, he was all out of steam. 

He sat in the paint room, watching as jester worked on her latest piece. It was a portrait of the group, all vague shapes as opposed to her normal detailed illustration, but it was clear enough who each person was. He stared at Caleb's blob. Red hair, pale skin, a large coat, freckles. 

He couldn’t go back to normal, knowing what he knew now. 

He had hurt Caleb, it was unintentional but it happened. He couldn’t change it now. Now he had to do the right thing, even if that meant he had to avoid the man like the plague. It would be hard but doable, even when in the same room he would make an effort to put space between them, use the others as shields to protect the human from him. He wouldn’t speak to him anymore than physically necessary. If he was blind to the hurt he had caused Caleb, clearly he could not be trusted to interact with him. The man would be better off without him, for he couldn’t say no and he wouldn’t ask Molly to leave. Molly would not force Caleb to associate with him, for he was another one of his abusers, a perpetrator, a  _ molester _ . 

He was determined, he would stay the fuck away from Caleb. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!  
> The scene between Molly, Caleb, Cad and Beau was heavily inspired by another fic that I have spent the last hour trying to find but cannot for the life of me so if you can see the inspo and know the fics name please let me know so I can give credit where credit is due   
> EDIT: The fic is The Fiend and the Fire by Phoenix_Writes
> 
> Speaking of credit 
> 
> ROUND OF FUCKING APLAUSE FOR Doctor_Incubus on AO3/ gay-alchemist on tumblr who went through this monster of a chapter and not only helped me with my horrid horrid grammar and spelling but also helped develop and build on a lot of key moments in this chapter.


	7. Chapter 7: Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caduceus and Beau try to understand what has just happened, Caleb tells them the story of a bright young boy who dreamt of wizardry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for this chapter:   
> \- general everything about Caleb's back story, abuse, death. manipulation   
> \- Calebs brand of self-loathing   
> \- Self-harm (fire) in the last paragraph   
> \- Food and drink mentions, descriptions of drinking tea.   
> \- Description of nausea and vomit ( no actual vomiting just feeling like it was gonna happen)
> 
> I think that's everything

Caleb was kneeling obediently in the living room, he could hear the others arguing, but he let the cacophony of raised voices wash over him as he listened only for orders or direct questions. This felt familiar, this felt wrong,  _ this _ hadn’t been a fact of life for months now. He faintly could feel himself hate it, hate how easily he slipped into the mind-numbing state, like the beaten dog of war that he was. But the feeling was faint, unimportant, immaterial. 

“Wouldn’t you?” Mollymauk said in his direction, a question.  _ Fuck _ . He hadn’t been paying enough attention, what had the question been? He fought to register the words, he was used to his name being called and then ordered or questioned but, of course, things were different here, things were  _ always  _ different here. Caleb watched Molly’s feet move towards Caduceus 

“Please tell me he would've, Cad’. Cad’, he wouldn’t just let me hurt him.”

Quickly he placed the context clues he had besides one another and placed them together like an ill-fitted puzzle. The picture he gained was not clear, but it was enough to estimate the correct response. 

“It does not matter what I am comfortable with, it is of little consequence.” He was sure to speak carefully, despite his tongue feeling thick and heavy like a dead thing sitting in his mouth. He’d had the sour taste of such words on his lips often enough he no longer felt the sting.

Unbidden, the thought of Vex came to him, her gently aiding him to work towards the setting of his own boundaries, but his comforts being taken into consideration wasn’t important now. That far off future full of choices and the word ‘no’ was something that felt little more than a distant daydream underneath the fuzzy underwater feeling he found himself downing in currently. Not something to concern himself with now. For now, it really didn’t matter where these alleged boundaries lay, it really didn’t. What mattered now was pleasing those around him, what mattered now was to be  _ good _ , to do as he was told, to _ survive _ . 

But that didn’t seem to be the correct response, he felt the tension in the room grow instead of lessening. Beauregard cursed in anger and it took every ounce of willpower not to flinch, he did, however, find his posture weaken as he curled in on himself as he saw Mollymauk stride towards him, he braced himself for the blow that was sure to come and yet never did as the tiefling passed him. 

Caduceus sighed and crouched down to look at his face. Caleb focused on keeping his eye line forward and down as would be expected of him, as had always been expected. “Up you get now,” The firbolg offered a hand, palm up towards Caleb. He was out of striking distance so it took a moment of confusion for Caleb to understand that he wished for him to take it in his own hand. “I’m sorry Caleb, this isn’t fair to you, none of this is.”

Caleb looked up towards Beau, the last one to give a direct order, unsure if he could accept the hand and, assumedly, stand without the woman’s permission. He was surprised, to see that instead of the stern and calculating look he was used to seeing on those above him, instead, she was pale, her hand curled and sitting across her mouth, he noted distantly that she seemed as though she may throw up. 

She looked perplexed for a moment when she found his face turned upwards towards her’s but then seemed to understand his silent question, and with ever so slight nod of her head granted him permission. She turned away from him, walking through the door that led to the kitchen. His heart sank in self-depreciation, he had upset her- that much was clear. What it was that he had done wrong exactly, was unclear. 

He took the hand in front of him and let it pull him to his feet. When released he placed his hands obediently back behind his back and lowered his head. He tried to keep his mind in that middle ground of floating away and aware, a difficult task- he was out of practice, and the animal instinct in him wanted desperately to float away, to collapse under the weight of the air around him, to let the fuzz that surrounded the world grow. but he somehow managed, he needed to, lapse of attention could not be tolerated. 

He obeyed the silent order to follow as the two lead him through a door and into the kitchen, the firbolg muttered something about tea and began to rummage through the various jars that lined one of the cupboards. 

“Would you like me to help you Caduceus?” he asked as he always did when he found the man in the kitchen, he wasn’t sure as to the direction that everything was heading but the familiar question felt comfortable to ask, a known entity in a raging inferno of variables. 

Caduceus paused, his hands hovering over the electric kettle, “Thank you for offering but I’m alright.” 

Quietude filled the space, the only sound was that of the rumble of the kettle coming to a boil and the _ tink ka tink  _ of Caduceus measuring out spoonfuls of tea into a pot. His mind was a void for that indescribably long 3 minutes and 28 seconds. He listened for orders but there were none. He kept himself aware enough to be ready should Beauregard lose her temper and correct him for whatever he had done to upset her, but the blow didn’t come. 

The kettle boiled and was poured into a pot, tea leaves swirling around the glass cylinder like snow during a storm. 

“Outside?” Caduceus asked, his voice carefully soft for reasons Caleb was unsure. Beau nodded, her eyes darted across the room and did not meet the firbolg‘s. She took three mugs from the drying rack beside the sink and when Caleb reached out to aid her in carrying them she only shook her head. 

“Thanks, man,” her voice was watery, “but I got it.”

He nodded and stepped back, letting her pass before following the two outside. There were three mugs so it was clear they intended him to join them. Why though, he was uncertain. He had upset them, but that was as much as he could be sure of. Did they perhaps wish to correct him outside? Thoughts of scalding water splashing across his skin came to him without his permission, but he pressed the thought down. There was no point in speculation. 

The three of them sat around the table, Beauregard scratched at the layer of dust that was settled over it as Caduceus poured the steaming liquid into their respective mugs. 

Caleb waited.

Waited for the reprimand that was sure to come. Or at least, an explanation as to what he had done wrong. Remembering himself, he forced his posture into the relaxed arrangement that the group preferred. He held the mug between his palms, it was hot, but in a way that felt far away. A distant pain that was happening to someone that wasn’t quite himself, not enough to make him feel real, nowhere near the thundering burn from his flames, but it was there, like a scent in the air you can’t quite identify. 

He sipped the tea. He had yet to find himself liking tea. Tea, he had found, tasted like hot water that was slightly bitter with a pleasant smell, he couldn’t even tell the difference between the multitudes of leaves that Caduceus so clearly loved. New blends excitedly revealed every few weeks. It was all slightly bitter water to Caleb’s pallet. 

He had downed half the scalding mug before anyone spoke.

In the quiet, he found the warmth against his hands feeling more attached to himself, the firm ceramic placed between his palms slowly bringing his sensibilities back to him. The familiar sip, swallow action of drinking the tea brought him back as well. He was finding that if he held the tea in his mouth for a short time, allowing it to cool, a trace of flavour could be found. That, also helped him find solidity amongst his surroundings. 

Simultaneously, he was realising what exactly had happened and what exactly he had done wrong. Belatedly the mocking nature in Bearegard’s tone at the initial order was made known to him. The tension on the room when he had done so identifying itself as not anger towards him but distress. He had blindly followed an order that did not exist. 

His understanding of how things functioned here, were rocky at best. He knew on some base level that the idea of orders and protocols and punishments that he had spent much of his life memorising and obeying would appall the denizens of the recovery home. And yet the notion that such things did not exist even in a subtle way seemed a foolish thought. How could they not?

Patience could only wear so thin. 

Perhaps it was exactly this moment that would cause that patience to break?

Caleb cleared his throat, swallowing down the last remnants of his tea, preparing to speak. But what would rectify this? Not for the first time he wished that punishments were a given thing here, they made it so much easier to atone for wrongdoings. 

“I would like to apologise.”

The two others made noises of dismissal, no doubt about to say he need not do so but he cut them off before the words could form.

“I understand you may not need one from me, but nonetheless I would like to.“ he paused, breathed, pushed the fear down. “I am sure you have made assumptions about my past, as I have made such assumptions about yours. But perhaps if I gave you facts I could explain my actions. It would not be an excuse but instead a reason.”

“Caleb you don't have to,” Caduceus spoke, pouring himself another mug of tea.

“I know,” Caleb said, doing what he could to put the tones of resolution that he did not feel into his voice. “But I would like to.”

He debated for a second his next action, would it be fair to put the weight of his past on these people? The image of a folded photograph placed on this very table flashed across his mind, a vulnerable moment shared in the brisk dawn and he found himself wanting Veth to know, or at least for her to be there. He was not sure when it happened, but he considered her a friend and great comfort.

“One moment,” he said to the patiently waiting Beau and Caduceus.

“Veth, if you have the, erm, what’s the phrase? Forks? To have a very heavy conversation please join me outside.” He whispered into the wire, pointing in the direction of her room. A few seconds passed and then the reply came to his mind.

“Spoons. And I’m coming down now- are you okay? You can reply to this message.”

“Uh... Ja, I am safe. See you in a moment.” He lowered the wire, placing it back into its home inside his pocket, “I uh, I was messaging Veth, I would like for her to be here.”

Many hours later he had realised that he had not asked permission to invite Veth but instead had done it entirely without consulting the others. He had felt a sick revulsion at the realization, and then a faint sense of pride in himself.

But when the halfling woman had slammed the sliding door open he had not thought on his act of free will, but instead near jumped out of his skin at the sudden sound that broke the intense quiet that had surrounded him since Mollymauk had ran off.

“WHAT’S WRONG ARE YOU HURT?!” her voice was somehow shriller than usual as she screamed, looking ready to physically fight whatever had caused him to want her comfort. Caleb could not help the faintest tug of a smile playing on his lips at her protective nature.

“I am not hurt, but uh, I have-” how to explain, “I have acted in a… inappropriate way, and I would like to give some perspective as to, to how I have lived my life thus far and why I… as Caduceus has pointed out a few moments ago, struggle with denying requests.”

If she was surprised she did not show it, her face simply grew serious and she nodded taking a seat beside him. “Well, I’m right here.

“Ja,” he swallowed thickly, “ja you are, and I ask that you do not interrupt me. I- Once I start I do not think I can stop until everything is said, and if I do I will not be able to start again.”

This was it, this was the deciding moment. HE could lie, tell them something terrible but not damning. But he did not have the energy to lie, he didn’t want to live under a falsehood anymore. It was better to tell them. And if they reacted poorly he could run, perhaps Veth would even run with him- he lingered on that fantasy for but a second, and then steeled his resolve. 

And so he told them.

He told them about the young boy, a small-town prodigy in magic. The boy who breezed through life, who had everything come easily to him. The boy who, with two other young mages from his town had been accepted to the Soltryce academy on a specialty program. For the first few years it had been the most incredible and perfect thing. Full of learning and the utter joy that came with it. Many people had some form of magic in small amounts, but he, he was learning it in it’s undiluted vastness, much of the subject still a mystery to even the masters. In those days he could see a future laid out for him in which he spent his days studying and researching, unlocking the mysteries of the fabric of the universe.

Until Master Ikithon chose him. 

Pulled aside and put into yet  _ another _ speciality program, this one with one on one mentorship. It was then that Ikithon had began the arduous task of turning children into spies and assassins. Volstrucker, Scourgers,. the infamous secret of the empire. What was a boarding school became long trips to the facility posed as Trents summer home, he and the others learned to hurt, to manipulate, and most importantly to obey. 

Orders ran his and the others' days like clockwork. Protocols on how to act and speak dictated every moment. Rules brought him to his knees under their weight. Punishments had him standing again, ready to take action, anything, anything to avoid the pain that was failure. 

He told them very little about the actual process, just enough to get the point across. They did not need to know the exact amount of blood that had stained his hands, nor how much stained some concrete floor in the countryside. 

He hadn’t planned on telling them the entire story. He hadn’t wanted to. He had stupidly, foolishly found himself viewing these people as friends, he didn’t want to see their faces twist in disgust as they learned what kind of monster he really was.

Despite this, the words fell out of him, like a broken dam he couldn’t stop the flow of words.

His voice and hands shook when he told them of his parents, his parents who had been so proud. So very  _ proud _ . Veth had placed her hands over his at this point but said nothing, he was so very thankful for her at that moment. 

He told them of the night when his mind broke, when he fell to his knees and shattered amongst the flames of his burning childhood home that he had not lived in for years. 

He told them of the police raid, of the woman who had placed her hand on his head and put back together the pieces. Telling him to get his things, asking if anyone else was in the facility, he hadn’t known. Everything had been so foggy. He still didn’t know, where had they gone? Had they left him there to take the blame? To die? He did not know and he doubted he would ever know. 

Eventually, the last words were dragged out of him and he was left with the hollow silence left in their wake.

“So now you know.” He said as the silence dragged on painfully, praying silently for it to end, for them to say something. Anything.

It was Beau who spoke first,  “Caleb, that's deeply fucked up, you know that, right?

Caleb nodded, “Ja, I am aware.” How could he not know? What child could kill their parents in cold blood? Patricide for a false sense of patriotism. No, he knew it was fucked up.

As his thoughts began to fall down that well of self-loathing Bearugard did something he never would have expected from her, she took his hand and gripped it in hers, not gently but not harshly. Firmly. He sucked in a breath, fighting the urge to pull away.

Her face demanded eye contact which he obeyed, despite the overwhelming nature of it.

“It’s not your fault.” She spoke clearly, the tension in her jaw showing the effort she was making to keep her voice level. “You were manipulated by that fuck.”

“You were a child” Veth’s voice spoke from beside him.

“So what?” he hadn’t meant to yell and yet he found the anger in his words, anger at them, at Ikithon but mostly at himself.

“He manipulated you.”

“So what?!” no matter what was done to him, no matter how much he felt every nerve inside him urge him to obey, it didn’t matter- he was a disgusting person, he had destroyed  _ everything _ .

“Caleb.” He’d never heard Caduceus sound so harsh before, his voice demanding attention. It pulled Caleb out of his spiral. “I know it‘s hard to acknowledge, I know it’s hard to believe. But you were a child, and you were hurt. It’s not your fault.”

How could it not be? How did they not hate him?

“You did what you had to do to survive.” Beau had a faraway look in her eye, she was present but her mind was half remembering something else, “I understand what that's like, and trust me the more you blame yourself for how shitty everyone else is, the deeper the hole you have the claw your way out of.”

He did not believe them, but he did not argue. 

Feigning fatigue, Caleb eventually found himself able to walk away and retreat behind the closed door of his room. He had decidedly forced his feelings about the events of the day deep into a box, to which he would examine later when his skin felt less raw and his mind less explosive.

He went about the rest of his daily routine, finding peace in the repetitive and expected nature of it. He read, he studied with what little resources he had on hand, he played with his cat, and he told the fey feline about his mistakes and blunders of the day, only to be met with Frumpkin’s knowing gaze.    
  
“You know what I should do huh?”    
  
The cat, unsurprisingly, said nothing.    
  
“One day I will learn how to speak properly with you and all decisions will fall upon your shoulders for once.”    
  
The cat still said nothing, but blinked slowly and gave him a little blep. Caleb pressed his face against Frumpkin’s, “Ja, I know, I know.”    
  


He had, in fact, not asked Caduceus if he could aid with dinner. He didn’t want to come down for dinner. He didn’t want to speak to any of them. He didn’t want to face his shame. But alas, just as she did every night that he wasn’t cooking, Veth called him out of his small sanctum of solitude and walked with him down the stairs. She said nothing, but he could feel her focus on him, the heavy itchy feeling of her attention unwavering.

He knew that the attention came from care, logically. But the animal instinct in him screamed that she was upset with him, that they all were. He had failed. He needed to be punished. 

He ate his meal quickly, shovelling what he hoped would seem a decent amount of food into his mouth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat. He couldn’t taste it even if he had wanted to. He ate until nausea became too much when the churning of his stomach threatened to make itself known by disgorging its contents right there at the dinner table. 

Mollymauk and Jester had not been at dinner, Fjord had made a throwaway comment that they’d gone to the “tantrum house” and Caleb felt his fingers go numb.    
  
He had upset them, so much so they needed to retreat to fully express their emotions. He wasn’t sure what this tantrum house was nor what it entailed, but he knew that he was at fault. 

  
  
Disgusting.    
  
Terrible.    
  
Insubordinate.    
  
Spineless.    
  
Coward.    
  
Failure. 

That night, as he lay in his bed staring up at the ceiling, he found all the pent up emotions and thoughts escaping from their so cleverly crafted boxes. His mind an endless cacophony of self malice. 

It was funny, in a terrible sort of way. How the others had noticed in small ways how he flinched and retreated from flame, especially when they had all watched some sort of historical fiction that involved the burning of witches. They’d all noticed, but didn’t say anything. They’d seen the way he’d retreated inwards, his mind fleeing from the memories that came unbidden at the screams. (They hadn’t even been accurate, not quite as animalistic and chilling in their death throes but nonetheless...) A few days later Molly had been doing some sort of fire dance in the yard under the tree and as soon as Caleb stepped outside had doused the flame; claiming he was bored. 

  
_ It was morosely funny, how they assumed he feared the flame _ he thought as he watched his own arcane fire trickle up and down his blackening hands. The stinging heat prickling at all his nerve endings.    
  
He didn’t fear the flame, it was his weapon, his solace, his _ destruction _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, this chapter was a struggle to write!   
> I think because so much of what happens in CR is about them growing together whereas in this, the rest of the nein are a bit more developed compared to Caleb so its tricky for me to navigate the complexities of that fine line. Plus home life stuff was being ridiculously dramatic lmao 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!! I thrive of feedback and comments. Feel free to hmu on tumblr @tieflingboi   
> As always Doctor_Incubus on AO3/ @gay-alchemist on tumblr was a massive lifesaver with helping me work on this chapter, story as well as my shitty shitty spelling ( i think I've come up with 6-7 ways to spell Cad's full name and none of them right lmao)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!  
> please let me know what you think, as I feed off feedback. 
> 
> if you want to feel free to come scream at me on Tumblr  
> tieflingboi.tumblr.com


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